


Snapping Turtle

by Chairtastic



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Soldiers, Civil War, Comedy, Dark Comedy, Downfall of Imperialism, Human Experimentation, Killing, M/M, Memes, Monk vs Ninja, Ninja vs Samurai, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Philosophy, Self-Insert, Turtle Ninjas, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 38
Words: 129,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28002693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chairtastic/pseuds/Chairtastic
Summary: Isobu the three-tailed turtle has been bonded to another host due to civil war.  But the trouble with making a living weapon is that sometimes they can think.  They can make decisions of their own.  And they might be of the opinion that a leash can be pulled from either end.
Comments: 84
Kudos: 383





	1. Seal of Hooks

**Snapping Turtle**

By Chairtastic.

A/N: Okay, so what I'm doing here is a bit of a shift in writing for me. One, because I haven't written Naruto fanfiction since I stopped super hardcore shipping back in my mid-teens. And two, because I'm writing an SI... where the perspective characters aren't the SI. I think I'll have to do a perspective of the SI, but hopefully not for a while. That way the readers can see and feel the reactions _to_ the SI instead of it being exclusively a power trip.

Summary: Isobu the three-tailed turtle has been bonded to another host due to civil war. But the trouble with making a living weapon is that sometimes they can think. They can make decisions of their own. And they might be of the opinion that a leash can be pulled from either end.

\---

**Ch 1: Seal of Hooks**

\---

_Fifteen years before Naruto._

Mother Jiang.

Akami had been afraid every afternoon that, when the children came back from the instruction at the academy, her boy wouldn’t be one of them. With the civil war, none of the civilians knew when their children’s class would be ordered to graduate and partake of the bloody ceremony. Had the Daimyo not commanded that all children in the village be sent to the academy to train, she would not have allowed her son to go.

He could hate her if he wanted, but he would be alive to hate her. Better an estranged child than a buried one, as her mother had told her when she did the same to Akami.

Akami cooked to distract herself from the worry and the war. She worked in a restaurant in the village, so her managers were appreciative of her dedication. The extra work, from when her son left in the morning, made them content to let her leave in the afternoon to be there when he got back.

She was a large woman, she’d gotten into cooking because she loved food, and anyone who ever had anything to say about it got punched square in the teeth. Her father had been a ninja, she knew how to throw a punch that would hurt. Her mother had said that, after the starvation that had hit Kiri during the First Shinobi World War, she thought it a blessing that she had a daughter who loved to eat to soothe her anxiety.

Kiri wouldn’t go hungry during the civil war, she hoped. The loyalists still controlled the major ports and Kirigakure had priority on supplies. But any day, the battle could turn against them and their vast archipelago could shrink down to just the central islands, and food would grow scarce.

As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, when she left the restaurant one day, she noticed that it had started to snow. A terrible omen, and she rushed home to put on a pot of tea. Alongside that, a quick meal of egg fried rice for both her and her son. She had the meal set out along with tea so that he would see it the moment he came back. Something set her hairs on end, like an instinctual warning, before she heard it.

The neighbor’s children had come down the road home. And shortly thereafter she heard soul-crushing wails. Akami sat and watched the door as dread creeped into her veins. The screams grew more numerous as more children returned home and more… didn’t. Akami’s son was a bit silly, observant, but he talked back when insulted -- and had inherited his father’s Wave Country temper. Anger got ninja killed.

A figure passed by the window, too tall to be her boy. Tears started to fill her eyes. Someone knocked at her door, too loud and deliberate to be her boy. Akami desperately tried to keep it together as she stood from the table and shuffled to the door. She knew what she was going to be told, but she couldn’t shake the slim hope that it was something different.

A thousand possible scenarios played before her as she opened the door. Without the barrier, the wailing of mothers who mourned their children was even worse. In her doorway was one of the ninja instructors at the academy. Sojiro Hidaka, a tall and whip-thin man who wore all-grey except his black Kirigakure headband and a medical mask over his face.

She stood there for a second, afraid that she would break and begin to wail as other mothers did. She stood there while the ninja looked down his nose at her -- for all she knew, he smirked underneath that mask. Kiri ninja were vicious like that.

“Akami Jiang,” the chunin started and folded his hands behind his back while he bowed.

Akami returned the gesture, and tried to remain dignified as she rose from it.

“It is with honor that I inform you that your son graduated from Kirigakure’s ninja academy this morning. He will serve his country as a genin.”

Relief was bitter as she heard dozens of mothers wail at children who didn’t make it. She looked to the chunin’s side, and didn’t see her boy there. Something was wrong. “Where is he? Is he hurt? At the hospital?”

Sojiro sighed, as if exasperated, and explained. As his words hit her, it was like a knife drove into her heart. Her son was alive, but some part of her wished he wasn’t. The chunin left, to go inform another family of their child’s fate, and left Akami in the open doorway.

She didn’t have the energy to join in the desperate wails of other mothers. Akami closed the door and shuffled to the couch. The food she made would go cold, as would the tea. But she didn’t care at that moment. Akami sat with her head in her hands and wished she could cry. She had been almost there mere minutes prior, then it all went away when she heard what had become of her son.

She couldn’t bring herself to cry for a demon.

\--

Director Ruan.

Medical director Suzume Ruan checked all the injured patients from the latest graduation to make sure they were treated properly. She’d had the trainees do it, as she’d been required for the jinchuuriki procedure.

“Laceration from kunai,” she impassively spoke as she examined the genin’s back. “Stitches look good, sterilized properly, no bleeding. It’ll scar, and you’ll have something to brag about when the stitches come off.” Suzume adjusted her half-moon glasses and nodded at the trainee who had done the work. To give the genin a bit of a boost about his recovery, she rustled his hair before she laid him back down to rest. Once they were out of earshot of the boy she turned to the trainee and tapped her in the chest. “That stitchwork was magnificent, especially for how little time you had to do it. If you want a hospital job, and not somewhere on the front lines, keep that up.”

“Yes, director,” the trainee responded, her sweat visible through the scrubs.

“Get cleaned up, you’ve more patients to look after.” She didn’t linger much on how she had lied to the trainee -- fast and effective stitchwork was a vital field resource, not a hospital one. But no one wanted to learn the field medic skills and risk their lives. Suzume returned to her office to begin filing the paperwork to bill the medical supplies to the budget committee.

On her desk were pictures of her and her family in happier times. A photo of Suzume and her sister, back when her hair was long and done in a braid, rock climbing. A photo of her fiancee and her on a date, back when Suzume’s skin wasn’t pale from being indoors. And a photo of Suzume asleep on the couch with her cats, when she didn’t have massive bags under her eyes.

She worked in relative silence until her office phone rang. She had enough managerial staff on hand that she shouldn’t have been contacted unless something had gone wrong. When she picked it up, she got informed of the specifics: “The jinchuuriki escaped.”

Suzume’s blood ran cold as she slammed the phone in its cradle and rushed out of the office. Doubtless the Anbu operatives assigned to watch the hospital were in pursuit, but if the seal they had bound the bijuu up in had faltered then there wasn’t much that they could do besides bring her back a body.

But maybe the boy hadn’t gone far, and she could bring him back.

When she got to the jinchuuriki’s room, she found the chunin left to guard the boy bound to the wall by pink coral, and the restraints on his bed broken by the same substance. She refrained from chastising the pathetic ninja that had been bested by a freshly blooded genin, and asked them which way he’d went.

She didn’t have to go far, just a couple floors down. In happier times, the hospital had a pool for physical therapy which had gone unused as no one could be spared to do the physical therapy exercises with the patients. Suzume saw the doorknob burst apart with fragments of coral in it, and looked inside.

The jinchuuriki was face-up in the water, fully dressed, floating with arms and legs wide. He wasn’t just a genin, Suzume told herself. He was a jinchuuriki of a water bijuu. He had already used his powers long before they thought he would even be conscious. The wise thing to do would be to let Anbu sort it out, she hadn’t been on a battlefield in years.

But, perhaps due to too many long shifts and too much ruthless calculus of war, she opened the door and stepped inside. The jinchuuriki turned to her, then looked back at the ceiling. A large boy, tall for his age, and chubby. His hair had to be shaved for the seal, but the hook-like tattoo almost resembled a curly hairstyle on its own.

“Noburu?” She cautiously spoke and approached the edge of the pool. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you know.” The boy responded as if he’d heard her perfectly despite his ears being submerged. “Vibing.” He was so nonchalant, it was eerie.

“Vibing?”

Noburu sighed. “Doesn’t matter. Isobu wanted to swim, found a pool and went swimming.”

“Isobu?” She frowned as she walked the perimeter of the pool. She could tell by the shadows that deepened suddenly that the Anbu were on hand in case something happened.

“The Three Tails. His name is Isobu. He likes to swim.” Noburu closed his eyes and floated in silence for a while. “You’re still here.”

“I need you to go back to your room, Noboru.” Suzume didn’t want to provoke the jinchuuriki so close to the water, but she couldn’t leave the Anbu to sort it out and potentially sour the jinchuruki’s attitude toward the village more than it had already.

“And I’ll return… when Isobu is satisfied.” The boy moved to float upright in the water, and his eyes met hers in an intense stare. “We both want Isobu to be satisfied, content, not at all prone to push against this prototype seal none of you knows the exact _strength of_ , right?”

_Shit_ , Suzume thought to herself. “You… were awake for that, were you?”

“Anesthesia affects everyone differently. Takes a bit longer to kick in for me, my dad was the same way.”

“The seal… we expected the demon to fight back. It would be caught like a fish on a hook.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to explain herself to a _child_ , but the boy’s intense stare made her feel like she was being scolded by a superior.

“Spirit,” he responded. “Isobu is a spirit. But yeah, the whole fish hook design element, I got that. But I’m not willing to risk my life to stress test the damn thing, so I’m keeping Isobu happy and unhooked.” The genin swam around the pool aimlessly for a moment before he turned to her again. “Isobu says the next time you seal him in an urn, just fill it with water and this won’t be necessary for future jinchuuriki.”

“O-oh. I’ll… pass that along to the Mizukage.”

“Cool. Now I’m going to keep this up for a while. You probably have work to go do. Bye.” Noburu dove under the water and swam submerged.

Suzume glanced at the deepest shadows, where she knew the Anbu watched, and walked out of the pool. The jinchuuriki was watched. He wasn’t being confrontational. And if either of those changed, she could trust the Anbu to sort it out without killing him. However she still would have to get those chunin off her wall, and repair the coral damage the boy had done.

The impulse to get the jinchuuriki to kill her to avoid paperwork was tough to shake off.

\--

Mother Jiang.

Akami had a friend, Arata Chow. Arata was of mixed descent, like her Noburu, so she looked to him for insight on how to make her son’s life easier in Kirigakure. They were both of the foot caste, so there was no pressure to help but Arata did anyway. In return, Akami helped him when his wife took ill -- and looked after Arata’s daughter when they had to go to the hospital. Arata’s wife was vain, and became nasty as she grew sick, so Akami became a person he could vent to when times were tough.

It hurt her like a knife to the heart when she found out her Noboru had killed Arata’s Yuuko to graduate from the academy. A darling little girl who loved to chase and collect bugs, gone so her son could live. Only for that life to be ruined, and the sacrifice to be meaningless.

She expected Arata would hate her, but she wasn’t a coward. She made a trip to the bank, and obtained some ryo to give as condolence money. Akami was ready to be screamed at, or attacked, because of the circumstance. But she would do Yuuko’s memory right and observe tradition.

She ran into Arata on the way back from the bank. Where once he had been a short but lively man, he seemed empty when Akami saw him. His tanned skin pale, and his eyes red. When Arata saw her he scowled with terrible hatred, and Akami couldn’t say it was undeserved. Her son had lived, as a demon, and Arata’s daughter was gone.

Akami stood still as the short man stormed over to her and began to shout. Even crazed with grief, he wouldn’t throw a punch -- though Akami would have let it slide.

“You have some nerve showing your face!” Arata shouted, his voice slightly hoarse. “I trusted you and your brat! I invited you into my home! I let my daughter stay with you! And your son put a knife in her neck!”

“Yes,” Akami responded, and averted her eyes.

“Look at me. Look at me!” When Akami returned her gaze, Arata was despondent. “You told me our kids would look out for each other in the academy! They’d be on a team, and serve together! And….” Arata clenched his fists and beat them against his head. “He killed her! He killed her because she wouldn’t fight back, I know it! My sweet girl….”

Would Akami do the same if the situation had reversed? If Yuuko had lived, to become the jinchuuriki, and Noburu had died? She didn’t know. She tried to think of what she would say to herself in that situation to make it feel better. But there were no words.

“Say something!”

Akami was quiet a moment longer before she spoke. “I’m sorry. She didn’t deserve this.”

Arata didn’t explode like how she thought she would. Instead, he began to shake his head. “No. No you’re not.” His face became a vicious snarl. “You’re not sorry. Not yet! You’ll be sorry alright, but not yet!” He turned in the opposite way he’d come, and shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll make you sorry!”

That night, Akami didn’t sleep. She stayed up with a sharp kitchen knife in her hand, and kept an ear out for any suspicious noises.

\--

Third Mizukage.

Kirigakure heavily featured cylindrical buildings, often with small parks planted on their roofs. There was little adornment for the buildings, or artistic inclination -- only their pragmatic value was considered. Painted walls, murals, any covering for the concrete was considered unnecessary. Even the rooftop parks had begun as a source of food for the landlord’s family.

The Mizukage Tower was not as tall as some of those buildings, but it was heavily fortified and the park within its roof was closest to being a forest in its own right. Fruiting trees and bushes were grown, and some wild animals kept for the pleasure of the hunt. A controlled ecosystem, as the First Mizukage had envisioned the village itself.

Sadly, that had not been the prevailing line of thought for the Second or Third Mizukages. While the Second had treated his ninja like family, the Third was markedly more distant.

The Third, Ryukotsusei, was a man without illusions. Haggard and old, he had been the longest leader of the Hidden Mist in its history. He looked out from his office window at the park within the Tower and saw a giant spike-backed turtle emerge from the park’s pond to snatch a deer by the neck. Nutrition and value had to be extracted from the weak to benefit the strong. That was just how things worked.

His reflection in the window was of a old man who seemed to have never visited a barber. His hair was long and spiked at the ends from lack of care. His eyes were deadened, and his face was lined with stress wrinkles. As years had passed, he wore the kage robes and hat more than his preferred fashion, until the kage robes and hat became his preferred fashion. A blue robe with a long white coat and a blue wide-brimmed hat with a neck covering -- inscribed with the symbol for water.

Ryukotsusei waited and watched as the water in the pond grew bloody from the spike-backed turtle’s meal. A meeting of the war council had been called, but the other members were not so fast as an elderly man with bad hips, it seemed.

Finally, a knock at his door. “Enter,” he instructed it and turned away from the scene below.

The first person to cross the threshold was the medical director, Suzume Ruan. She was the one who would have the most to say about the progress they’d made. Ryukotsusei didn’t appreciate how she never wore her forehead protector or flak jacket, even to official meetings, anymore -- it made it more apparent that she never expected to see the field again -- which would cause political problems.

Second came Fu Sun, a retired kunoichi who had been appointed to administer the military intelligence and counterintelligence of Kirigakure. Fu was ann elderly woman, her hair once a vibrant color but faded to grey, dressed as a civilian but with a sizable scroll across her shoulders. She sat down on one of the two couches which faced each other in front of the Kage’s table, and Ryukotsusei didn’t make a fuss about that. She was older than him, and already his hips told him he’d been standing too long.

Third came Raiga Kurosuki of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. A tall man, dark skinned and with long green hair, he was the only one of the war council who was not of the eyes caste, merely a hand caste jounin. Raiga, to Ryukotsusei’s shame, bore the Kiba branched twin swords -- imbued with lightning to cut deeper than any mundane blade. Raiga’s possession of the blades broke the unstained tradition that only the eyes caste were qualified to be in the Seven Swordsmen. A part of the Mizukage hated him for that. Raiga commanded the portion of Kiri’s armed forces meant to guard the village itself from rebels.

Fourth and last was the daimyo’s man, Takashi Zhang, from the capital. An overdressed fop by the standards of Kirigakure, the bespectacled man had a pinched face and fanned himself tirelessly while he walked in. Zhang was the daimyo’s representative, and provided the village its funds and supplies to wage war in the daimyo’s name. The man closed the door behind him, and flounced onto the couch opposite Fu.

Suzume and Raiga seated themselves, and the meeting was underway.

“The three-tailed demon turtle is sealed,” Ryukotsusei announced and seated himself at his desk. “One of the foot caste genin was deemed a suitable match and the ritual was completed yesterday. Director Ruan will fill us in on the details.”

All eyes went to Suzume, who wilted a bit under the gaze. “The genin we selected, one Noburu Jiang -- “

“Pfa,” Takashi interrupted with a cruel smile. “You allowed the jinchuuriki to keep its name? It will not live long -- give it a number or something.”

Ryukotsusei couldn’t say that was a poor plan. The three-tailed demon was more straightforward in its powerset than the six-tailed demon. Not less useful, but more easily used. Once a host was damaged irreparably, they could extract it and seal it into a new host within a couple of days. 

Suzume frowned. “The genin we selected has already shown the ability to use the three-tails’ coral generation powers. He broke free of his restraints, and defeated two chunin with relative ease. They are alive, without injuries.”

“Hmm,” said the Mizukage with concern. The jinchuuriki should have killed them. “I was told the jinchuuriki would be maddened with the pain of the three-tails from the seal we placed on it. Is the feedback not sufficient?”

“I expect it is sufficient, only… we misread the three-tails’ personality.” Suzume pushed her glasses up and avoided the Mizukage’s gaze. “The three-tails isn’t trying to escape. If it doesn’t try to escape, the seal of hooks doesn’t lock in around it to cause it pain and keep it confined.”

Takashi scoffed. “What? Preposterous. Every time the tailed demons have had a chance to escape, they took it. They’re destructive beasts, they want to be free to destroy.”

“Apparently you’re wrong, lord secretary,” Raiga smoothly cut in. The Swordsman smirked at the civilian official before he returned to professional indifference. “Making assumptions like that could cost us the war, you know. Your stance on jinchuuriki aside, we could lose this one if we send it against Kousuke recklessly.”

Fu sighed and leaned on the arm of her couch. “We cannot afford to waste time either. He’s graduated from the academy?” She looked around at Ryukotsusei and then Suzume, then nodded herself. “Very good. Get him assigned to a squad, and send him to war. I’ll make sure Kousuke has too much on his plate to make an appearance on the front lines.”

“I say we need to keep the jinchuuriki here,” Raiga said with a cold look. “With the jinchuuriki in the home guard, we can free up potentially dozens of ninja to reinforce the front lines and start pushing back. The shinobi in the home guard are tacticians, experienced soldiers, and not liable to have the rebel leader meet them in a head to head fight.”

Ryukotsusei tapped his fingers to the desk. “But having the jinchuuriki on the front lines could be useful for luring Kousuke into a trap. He lost how many men in the raid on the three-tailed demon’s shrine?” The Mizukage smirked at the memory. As if they would leave the bijuu in its temple after the six-tails’ jinchuuriki rebelled. “What is the jinchuuriki’s temperament?”

Suzume cleared her throat. “Accommodating. He only broke free and attacked his guards because he wanted to keep the three-tails calm. His academy marks that, aside from some back talk, he was a competent trainee. Though we have yet to see the impact of the graduation ritual on him.”

“Hmm.” Ryukotsusei rested his chin on his steepled hands. “I thought assigning him to face his childhood friend would burn that defiant streak out of him. We’ll have to work harder on that.” After Kousuke’s rebellion, it was not in the village’s interests to suffer a defiant jinchuuriki, nor would the daimyo allow it.

“Every minute that the creature is not on the front lines killing rebels, more loyal Water Country men die,” Takashi said softly with a scowl. His fanning speed slowed considerably. “The daimyo will not approve any plan that doesn’t see the creature being put to use.”

There was quiet as everyone looked to Ryukotsusei and he, in turn, contemplated. “We will not risk Kousuke stealing our remaining jinchuuriki,” the Mizukage declared. “He will stay in the home guard, under Raiga’s command, while Fu and I move the front lines around so that Kousuke can be trapped with his fellow jinchuuriki as bait. We have a soldier who can think, instead of a mad dog on a leash -- we can’t just throw him at the enemy as was the original plan.” The last was said to the daimyo’s man with narrowed eyes. The Mizukage’s gaze shifted to Raiga. “Get the creature to the point where it can kill jounin regularly.”

“Of course,” Raiga said and bowed his head.

“Killing Kousuke in an ambush would certainly cement our position relative to the warrior monks,” Fu commented. “Can’t say I like it more than the increased revenue we’d get from having an active jinchuuriki on the field, though.”

“Neither will the daimyo.” Takashi fanned himself speedily. “He will be positively furious if we lose Nagi and Ouza on top of the southern islands.”

“The daimyo will have his islands back by the end of this conflict,” Ryukotsusei assuaged the man. “Before the year's end, perhaps. They won’t even have time to print any ‘Sea Country’ ryo.”

\--

Jounin Kurosuki.

Raiga made his way to the hospital once the official orders were drawn up to get the jinchuuriki and begin training. From the picture in his file, the kid -- Noburu -- would need to lose some weight. A diet and Kirigakure exercise would see to that. Funerals and wakes would be announced for the children too weak to be genin, Raiga planned to make sure Noburu attended the one for the girl he’d killed.

He’d get to see if the kid was truly sorry.

The Anbu assigned to watch the jinchuuriki hid in the points of deepest shadows on the approach to his room. Too many good shinobi wasted on guard duty, in Raiga’s opinion. The jinchuuriki’s door was partially overgrown with coral, just enough to block the door from opening. With exactly zero regard, Raiga stepped back and kicked the door down with all his weight.

“Now listen up!” He shouted while he crossed the threshold. He pointed at the bald jinchuuriki on the bed, messing with coral, and assumed an authoritative tone. “You’ve been assigned to the home guard, specifically to my squad! I will function as your sensei, and get you into fighting shape if I have to beat you to death to do it! Am I understood?”

The jinchuuriki met his eyes and continued to mess with coral in his hands. “Great,” the pre-teen drawled. “I’m going to learn from a filler villain. A filler villain with personal issues sixteen miles wide, no less.” The boy sighed, long-suffering. “Going to have to break out the therapist chair for this, methinks.”

Filler villain? What? Raiga hadn’t expected that, and he visibly struggled to process it. “Genin, I am your sensei -- and you will do as I say!”

Noburu held up a finger. “That didn’t work for Dr. Gero, that’s not going to work for you. Also, to quote Tywin Lannister, anyone who has to say ‘I am the king’ is no true king. Power is shown, not talked about.”

Raiga decided he was going to go super hard on the jinchuuriki’s training right then and there. He’d never even heard of Dr. Gero or Tywin Lannister -- perhaps they were characters from a book?

“Plus, I’m a conscript. You volunteered to become a ninja, not me. I’m not going to be enthusiastic about this, nor particularly patriotic. You had to know this was likely to happen when you decided to make the jinchuuriki from the foot caste.” Noburu shrugged, then messed with his coral some more. Where before it had been a lump, he made it grow into a sharp spike. “I’m trying to make a sort of coral trap,” he commented when he saw Raiga’s interest. “Eventually I’m going to try and make coral caltrops, but these bigger spike balls should work on enemy summons. Stuff to throw into their mouths, or fleshy joints.”

Raiga blinked at the tactical thought he’d just heard from the genin. It was a good start -- not good enough to avoid a proper beasting, but still. “You’re able to make the coral grow on your own? Previous jinchuuriki needed to channel the beast’s chakra to do so.”

“I am channeling Isobu’s chakra, though. His chakra mingles with mine. A side effect of the seal of hooks.” He tapped the back of his head. “I’m pretty certain I can do that ‘eyes of the bijuu’ trick on command.” He screwed up his eyes and then opened them -- shining yellow where before they had been dull brown. “Intimidation factor.”

When Raiga looked at those eyes, he felt small. He felt like an ant must have felt to be the sole focus of a human. He didn’t like the feeling -- it prompted him to respond with anger. “Knock it off!” Raiga walked forward and grabbed the genin by the back of his shirt. “We got a lot of work ahead of us! You need to become a ninja worth all this investment, and get rid of this,” he growled as he poked the genin’s chubby gut. “It’s time to get down to business!”

“To defeat,” the genin deliberately paused and spoke with a musical inflection, “the Huns?”

Raiga slapped him.

\---

**Cast:**

Mizukage Ryukotsusei: The Third Mizukage, formerly an attendant of the First Mizukage, and a team member of the Second. A pragmatist at heart, and a fan of brutalist architecture. With him as the Mizukage, Water Country repeatedly expanded to include dozens of formerly independent island nations. Not a nice man. Eyes caste.

Director Suzume Ruan: A jounin medical ninja and contemporary of Tsunade. One of twelve sealing experts who helped to develop the Seal of Hooks version one, which was hoped would become the standard for all jinchuuriki seals. A bit of a coward. Eyes caste.

Akami Jiang: A line cook for Chu’s Place, a restaurant in Kirigakure. She’s a single mother due to her son’s father being a deadbeat who vanished in what would become Sea Country. Foot cast.

Noburu Jiang: Conscripted into Kirigakure’s armed forces due to the civil war, and made a jinchuuriki for Isobu the Three Tailed Turtle. He’s known to talk back, and has always been slightly off -- but did excellently in school. Foot caste.

Yuuko Chow: A neighbor and former friend of Noburu’s, conscripted into Kirigakure’s armed forces. She was a diligent and loyal student, and was known as a teacher’s pet. She was assigned to fight Noburu to the death, where she lost. Foot caste, deceased.

Kousuke: The rebellious host of Saiken, the Six Tailed Slug, a warrior monk from the Water Temple. He has raised an army in revolt against the daimyo of Water Country, and freed some of the conquered countries. No caste.

Raiga Kurosuki: One of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, a jounin of Kirigakure. Head of the home guard, he is responsible for the safety of Water Country’s home islands and the ninja village itself. Desperately lonely. Hand caste.

**Glossary** :

Eyes caste: The topmost caste of Kirigakure and Water Country, formed of the inhabitants of the original archipelago. Even the lowest of the eyes caste is higher than the next highest caste.

Hand caste: The middle caste of Kirigakure and Water Country. Made up of the allies of Kiri that bowed to the water daimyo’s authority and helped conquer other nations.

Foot caste: The lowest caste of Kirigakure and Water Country. Made up of people who were conquered during the wars of expansion. They are given the riskiest jobs and the least amount of trust.

Seal of Hooks: A sealing jutsu meant to give the sealed target a false path to escape, which hooks them as they attempt to make use of it and causes terrible pain. The nervous and chakra systems of the sealed target and host are more strongly connected, with the pain from the sealed target meant to drive the host insane. 

**Politics!** :

Kousuke, a warrior monk from the Water Temple and the jinchuuriki of Saiken, has risen in revolt against the Water Country daimyo. This is but one theatre of the crumbling of colonial power which is affecting all five of the Great Shinobi Countries in the leadup to the Third Shinobi World War. So far he has secured the freedom of the Moon and Sea Countries, and has begun to move closer to Water Country itself. Due to the split in Kiri’s forces from the civil war, a draft of the country’s foot caste children is ordered, and the creation of a new jinchuuriki of Isobu becomes necessary.


	2. Gut Punch

**Chapter 2: Gut Punch**  
  
\---  
  
Jounin Kurosuki.  
  
Raiga watched from the wall as the jinchuriki was forced to run laps with the other genin assigned to the home guard. They, however, had the benefit of food and water prior to their exercise. With arms crossed, Raiga walked the length of Kirigakure’s wall as the jinchuriki ran. Slowly, to his annoyance. He’d have to have the brat do hand-to-hand combat practice to burn some of that fat. The snow would help work on temperature tolerance, at least.  
  
“Commander,” one of the Mizukage’s many secretaries said as she advanced with an eerie smile. All the Mizukage’s secretaries dressed the same -- billowy pants and a long tunic with sleeves as wide as any kimono, but in a radically different style. One of the conquered nations had that fashion style, Raiga recalled. The secretary bowed to him and offered a scroll. “The Mizukage has ordered additions to your squad with the jinchuuriki. Please find details enclosed within.”  
  
“Thank you, Heylin,” Raiga responded and bowed to her in turn as he took the scroll. Most Kiri ninja wouldn’t offer respect to a secretary. Most Kiri ninja wouldn’t realize how valuable knowing the Mizukage’s mood prior to a meeting would be. Raiga showed respect, and was shown respect. After Heylin had departed, Raiga cracked open the scroll to review its contents while he caught up to the jinchuriki. “Sayaka Kanzaki,” he muttered as he read the first member of his team.  
  
A war-promoted chunin, Sayaka was of the hand caste as Raiga was. She was dark skinned, as he was, and had similar lips. Perhaps their ancestors had come from the same country. However she shaved her head, per her photo, and had slightly different features. Older than the jinchuuriki by a few years, it seemed the Mizukage intended her to be Raiga’s second in command. She wore her forehead protector in its bandana configuration, and dressed in the chunin-level flak jacket over earth-toned trousers and a jacket covered in an excessive amount of pockets.  
  
“Trap specialist, likely to be someone in on the plan for Kousuke,” Raiga muttered and nodded his approval. He checked on his new student. The jinchuuriki had stopped to catch his breath, but returned to run when he caught Raiga’s glare. With that sorted, Raiga checked on the second member of the team. “Haruki Fujimoto? A kekkai genkai user?” The jounin paused to make sure he’d read that correctly.  
  
Haruki was one of the eyes caste graduates, who weren’t obligated to take part in the brutal kill or be killed graduation ceremony. Only hand and foot caste were required to bloody themselves to prove their worth. The boy was in the midst of puberty, and at the time of his photo had just begun to grow his first mustache. Dark-skinned like Sayaka and Raiga, with dark green eyes indicative of his clan. He too had shaved his head, and he had no flak jacket but was dressed in immaculate high-born clothes in his photo. A ninjutsu specialist, from his file. “Boil release will be useful, particularly if he has mastered the acidic jutsu. Odd that an eyes caste is being given to a hands caste like me, though.” Once more Raiga glanced at the jinchuuriki. “Boiling works on lobsters and crabs… will it work on turtles, though?”  
  
\--  
  
Mother Jiang.  
  
Her son came home two days after she’d been told what they did to him. They’d shaved his head, he covered it with his forehead protector as a bandana. She caught a glimpse of his head underneath and saw an intricate tattoo which had many jagged hooks in its design surrounding a turtle-like shape. They’d sealed the three-tailed demon into her son.  
  
He’d returned dirty, probably from training, and looked like he was about to fall over. But once he’d sat down at the table, he began to improve.  
  
“If you don’t want me in your house anymore,” her boy told her out of the blue as she’d begun to make tea, “just say so. I can move to the barracks. You’ll never hear from me again.”  
  
Akami almost dropped the kettle, she was so shocked. “Wh-wha…? What?” She turned to look at her son with shock, but found she couldn’t look at his face.  
  
He’d taken his headband off and the tattoo of the demon’s seal was obvious. “This isn’t going to go away.” Noburu steepled his fingers and watched her. “You’re not comfortable with me here, and if I stay I’m afraid that will turn into resentment.”  
  
She’d tried to hide it. How instinctively she’d gone to hug the boy when he arrived, but recoiled when she noticed the forehead protector. The one he’d killed Yuukio for. She’d tried to hide how she yanked her hand back when he tried to touch her by seeing things which needed doing. She tried to hide how she tried to keep her back to him as often as possible with busy work. It hadn’t worked.  
  
“I’m not going to stay here if it means you grow to hate me.” Noburu met her eyes with an intense stare, his ‘serious business’ look which had been so cute when he was younger. “More than you do already.”  
  
“I don’t -- “ She choked when his intense look didn’t abate. He didn’t believe her. He believed his mother hated him. She never regretted choosing to stay in Kiri than in that moment. “I… don’t understand. How much of you is… you? How much is the demon -- “  
  
“Spirit,” he cut her off with a raised finger. “He is a spirit. I have to be firm on that.”  
  
Akami knew then that at least some of her son remained. Only he could talk back with that tone. That brought a small smile to her face, but it lasted only a moment. “Noburu, you killed Yuukio.”  
  
“I did.” He didn’t look terribly upset with it, but he took his eyes off her and focused on one of his hands. The hand that did it. “It was either her, me, or neither. Either one died, or both. I wanted to live.” His hands shook, and he clenched them into fists. “And then it was all wasted, because they wanted a jinchuuriki.”  
  
Akami could tell right away that her boy needed his mother to help him at that moment. A hug, something to help let the pain out. She knew it, her instincts told her. But she couldn’t bring herself to approach Noburu in that way. There was a demon inside him, and he’d killed Yuukio because she wouldn’t fight back.  
  
“I don’t suppose you know how odd it feels,” Noburu started conversationally. “To be in that sort of situation and realize ‘I want to live’.” He met her eyes and shrugged. “I was surprised. I thought I’d let her do me in, and hope I wound up somewhere better in my next life.”  
  
It was like the ground fell out from under her as she heard and saw her son, her only son, tell her that. That, more than any of the terrible things in the past two days, drove Akami to sit down and _feel_ how awful things were. Her son, not even a man, wanted to die. Where had she gone wrong?  
  
“I knew that they would have us kill each other. But I expected it to be random. Instead, they watched us and paired us up against… well, you can figure it out.” He looked at Akami, up and down, then nodded resolutely. “I’ll pack my things and go. Shouldn’t take long.” He stood and walked out of the kitchen at a brisk pace.  
  
She knew that if she didn’t fight for her son at that moment, she’d lose him forever. But her muscles wouldn’t move. It was like something kept her paralyzed. She remembered the times she would teach Noburu and Yuukio how to cook something, or how to prepare an ingredient. Those memories would always be a little bitter, but if she could not lose her son too they could at least be bittersweet.  
  
With a titanic effort of willpower, Akami rose to her feet and shakily walked down the hall to her son’s room. The door was closed, she slowly raised her hand to knock. A powerful impulse to just abandon this and go back to her seat hit her, but she fought it off. Twice she knocked.  
  
“...Come in,” her son said, defeated. He didn’t turn to face her when she opened the door, or stepped inside. “Got a sharp knife? It’ll have to be to kill me before Isobu’s healing kicks in.”  
  
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t stop to think about how much it hurt to hear her son consider his murder like that. She didn’t stop to think about the sudden impulse to just slam the door. Akami forced herself to take one step, then another, then a third, and spread her arms to envelop her son in a hug. It wasn’t as tight as her hugs usually were, but it was better than refusing contact.  
  
“You’re my son,” she said to convince herself just as much as Noburu. “And this is your home. Please don’t leave.”  
  
\--  
  
Third Mizukage.  
  
Ryukotsusei frowned at the two chunin who kneeled before his desk. “She’s a civilian. Your genjutsu is so weak that it cannot compel a _civilian_ to obey?” He leaned back in his chair and pinched his nose. “You young people….”  
  
The two chunin flinched at the Mizukage’s tone. “L-lord Third, please, let us try again! We know the issues know, we can use stronger genjutsu!”  
  
“Yes, Lord Third, we won’t fail you a second time!”  
  
“No,” Ryukoutsusei said with a small flicker of killing intent, “I don’t think you will.” He opened a drawer and took a sheet of paper out. A few minutes of writing later, he stamped the form with the official seal of his office. “A battalion of reinforcements is being prepared to go to Ouza, to Inaho village. You two will join it, and serve Water Country well.”  
  
Like base cowards, the two pleaded for mercy. They beat their heads against the floor to plead against what, to them, was a death sentence.  
  
“Compared to how I was in my prime,” the Mizukage softly responded, “this _is_ mercy. Live through to the rebellion’s end, and your mistakes will be forgiven and you will be rewarded as any loyal shinobi of Kiri should be. Continue to ruin my carpets, and I will send you to the front as _rations_. Out.”  
  
While the two left, one so weak that he could not help but sob, Ryukotsusei reflected. In the past, the standard operating procedure had been to isolate the jinchuuriki and to make them see the village’s ninja population as their family. Useful for loyalty, and to ensure the beast was combat ready. None of the previous jinchuurikis’ parents had put up so much of a fight as Akami Jiang had to keep her son.  
  
“Having someone to fight for might be an effective leash,” the Mizukage mused. He stopped to consider ways he could make use of such a leash, and a wicked grin spread across his face. “Well, my predecessor did advise me to keep our jinchuuriki close to the Kage’s household….”  
  
\--  
  
Chunin Kanzaki  
  
Sayaka had been positively bouncy when she learned the Mizukage had assigned her to the squad of one of the Seven Swordsman, and ecstatic for it to be Raiga Kurosuki. The first hand caste to enter the Seven Swordsmen _ever_ and she would learn from him! When she worked at the gym after the news had been delivered, it was such energy that the staff thought she would tear a ligament.  
  
But she couldn’t be happier -- sure, she had to work with two fresh genin, but she’d only graduated the year prior. They’d either get kicked out of the home guard, or wisen up to the standards they were expected to meet.  
  
Sayaka shouldered the heavy jacket with her trap supplies and weapons with pride, and ensured she had her best scrolls in her flak jacket before she went off to meet her new sensei and teammates. More than once, she stopped to do a dance in place when she remembered -- her sensei was one of the _Seven Swordsmen_.  
  
Her sensei had set the place of their first meeting to be in his office in the home guard tower, at the western wall of Kirigakure. It was constructed in the style of the Mizukage Tower, but of a smaller scale, and rested partially on the exterior curtain wall, and the district wall which ran all the way to the Mizukage Tower at the center of the village. With practiced authority she had used to address clients, Sayaka made her way through checkpoints to the commander’s office.  
  
To her surprise, it was not some posh suite on the top floor. It was a room with a small desk at one end, and several medical tables on the other. One wall was covered, floor to ceiling, in sealed hatches. A morgue.  
  
A hook-nosed boy in clothes way too nice to wear on a battlefield leaned on the desk and tapped his foot. No flak jacket, just a forehead protector in the same style as Sayaka’s. The boy glanced at her, and sniffed in disdain. “Finally, a servant. Fetch the commander -- he’s late for our meeting.”  
  
Sayaka’s gaze hardened, and her grip on the doorknob tightened. “You must have me mistaken, sir. I’m part of the commander’s squad.” Without pause, she stepped into the morgue and closed the door behind her.  
  
The boy looked surprised, then insulted. “You? You cannot be on the commander’s squad -- you’re hand caste.”  
  
“The commander is hand caste as well, you know.”  
  
“An insult my family will remember,” the boy tilted his head back snootily. “On top of my assignment here. But to be on the same squad as a hands caste genin? The height of disrespect!”  
  
Sayaka could clearly tell the boy was of the eyes caste, just from how he acted before she’d spoken. She couldn’t help but smile, she’d be sparing with an eyes caste lout -- and from his scrawny arms he couldn’t lift half of what she could. Maybe she’d knock some of his teeth loose. “I’m a chunin,” she said softly, ready to grin as the entitled brat’s world collapsed.  
  
“A chunin?” He seemed flummoxed by that. “But that… oh, does that mean the other genin is also eyes caste?” The boy crossed his arms and sighed. “That would be bearable, at least. I wouldn’t be alone in this vile insult on my family’s honor.”  
  
Sayaka glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, and arched her brow. “You said Raiga-sensei is late, but we’re both early.”  
  
“Hmph. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” The boy turned his nose up again. “Word should have spread that a member of the Fujimoto family had entered the tower, and the commander should have come to greet me.”  
  
 _Fujimoto, huh?_ Sayaka thought to herself. That narrowed down who she spoke to, then. “Then you must be Haruki -- the ninjutsu specialist.”  
  
“Finally you know who I am.” Haruki rolled his eyes. “I’d been speaking to you for _minutes_ and it still didn’t click, hmm?”  
  
 _I am going directly for those teeth the first time we spar,_ she promised herself. _Might throw in an arm, free of charge._  
  
“Then you would know if the other genin is eye caste from his name, wouldn’t you?”  
  
Haruki shook his head. “I told the servants to tell me my sensei, and where we would meet. Nothing else seemed important.” He pinched his nose. “A mistake, in hindsight.”  
  
The door to the morgue opened, and the imposing figure of Raiga Kurosuki stepped in. He dragged what Sayaka thought was a cadaver behind him, until it coughed, and threw the boy on one of the tables. “You two are early. Good.”  
  
Sayaka tried to keep the starstruck look off her face -- it was unprofessional -- but that was _one of the Seven Swordsmen_! Eee! She snapped to attention and took her eyes off him to better keep her professional air about her. “Chunin Kanzaki, reporting as ordered, commander.”  
  
“You’ve come to a meeting with your team dressed as a walking armory,” Raiga observed, sardonic, and closed the door behind him.  
  
“Better to have it and not need it, Raiga-sensei.”  
  
“I… guess.” Raiga turned to Haruki with a dark look, then jerked his thumb at the coughing boy on the medical table. “He’s excused from standing on account of broken legs. Unless you also want that excuse, at attention.”  
  
Haruki likely glared -- Sayaka didn’t turn to look -- but she felt him stand at attention next to her a moment later. In Kiri, senseis could do with their students what they wished.  
  
“I’m your jounin sensei, Raiga Kurosuki.” The Seven Swordsmen introduced himself with crossed arms. Those words made Sayaka feel light-headed. “Kanzaki, keep that doe-eyed look off your face if you want me to show you any respect going forward.”  
  
Sayaka steeled her features, desperate to not earn her teacher’s ill will. “Apologies, Raiga-sensei.”  
  
“On the slab here,” Raiga jerked his thumb in the kid’s direction again. “Is your other teammate, Noburu Jiang. Since he’s not a specialist like you two are, I have him on an intense training routine. I do not tolerate half-measures, I will not reward indecisiveness. Either you’re worth my time _or you’re not_. Understood?”  
  
“I… cannot possibly have heard you correctly,” Haruki said, more deeply insulted than Sayaka had ever heard him. “Did you say _Jiang_? A foot caste?!”  
  
Noburu, from the table, raised his arm with his middle finger extended.  
  
“Are you making a rude gesture in my presence, genin?” Raiga snapped without turning to look. His glare was focused on Haruki.  
  
“No sir,” Noburu rasped. “I’m asking him how many fingers am I holding up. He doesn’t seem bright.”  
  
Raiga was quiet while he glared at Haruki. “Well?” He said at last. “How many fingers do you see?”  
  
“I am of the _eyes caste_ \-- I cannot be on the same team as a foot caste _thrall_ ,” Haruki stammered, a little afraid of Raiga’s intense glare.  
  
Sayaka wished more than ever that she could eat popcorn and watch this from afar.  
  
“O-one, Raiga-sensei,” Haruki eventually answered.  
  
Noburu shifted to a thumbs-up and dropped his arm.  
  
Raiga closed his eyes and sighed. “The time is racing toward us, when the rebels arrive.”  
  
“Heed his ev’ry order,” Noburu musically rasped. “And you might… survive!”  
  
Raiga’s expression shifted to apocalyptic fury for a split-second, and his hand drifted to the handle of one of the Kiba swords. But a moment later, Raiga collected his thoughts and was at peace. “As… infuriating as that is, he’s right. You do as you are told, you learn as I teach, and you will come out of this war alive.”  
  
“Some restrictions may apply.”  
  
In a blur of motion, Raiga had one of the Kiba swords drawn and loomed over Noburu with it primed to stab. “I _swear to the spirits_ , if you do that _again_ today, I will puncture your lung!” When Noburu didn’t push further, Raiga backed off and sheathed his branched sword. The jounin took a second to fix his flowing hair, then addressed the team. “Tomorrow, we go to Fujioka Castle. We’re going to be reconstructing it, and examining the damage the rebels did to understand their tactics. We’ll be gone a couple weeks, pack accordingly. Fujioka is a ruin now, so expect to be camping for at least a while. Am I understood?”  
  
“Yes, Raiga-sensei,” Sayaka said promptly, unsettled a bit after that display.  
  
“...Yes… Raiga-sensei,” Haruki said, just as unsettled.  
  
Raiga turned to glare at Noburu.  
  
In defiance of how long Sayaka knew broken legs took to heal, Noburu kicked his feet up and swung off the medical table to stand. “Yes, Raiga-sensei.” Where Sayaka and Haruki were unsettled by the Swordsman’s stunt, Noburu seemed amused.  
  
There was something profoundly disturbing in how Noburu’s bright yellow eyes caught the light. It seemed almost reptilian. Creepy.  
  
\---  
  
 **Cast** :  
  
Sayaka Kanzaki: A chunin of the Hidden Mist. She graduated one year ago, and was given a field promotion due to how successful her traps did against enemy forces. A teenager, she still has some growing to do even though she likes to act like a grown-up. Frequently carries enough weapons and trapping material to supply an entire squad. Hands caste.  
Haruki Fujimoto: A member of the Fujimoto clan, noted for their Boil Release kekkei genkai which combines fire and water chakra together. A genin who did not need to participate in the brutal graduation ceremony due to his caste, he thinks highly of himself and needs a dose of humble pie. A ninjutsu specialist. Eyes caste.


	3. On the Road

**Ch 3: On the Road**  
  
\---  
  
Chunin Kanzaki.  
  
“What if Raiga-sensei thinks it’s presumptuous?” Sayaka asked her mother as she adjusted the sash her sword was attached to. She’d had the sword for ages by that point, and she knew some of the training exercises from books -- but it would be different, to learn from one of the Seven.  
  
“Then you don’t wear it until he tells you.” Sayaka’s mother was older, taller, and had adapted to her prosthetic arm well. Formerly a chunin herself -- Sayaka’s mother had been forced to retire on account of her loss. The Mizukage had allowed her to keep her forehead protector and granted access to regular visits to the ninja hospital on account of her service. To be wounded in the fight against the rebel leader -- when few survived -- was a great honor. She sat on Sayaka’s bed as Sayaka viewed herself in the mirror, and drew her sword to test how it worked with her heavy coat.  
  
“Yeah, but....”  
  
“You won’t know until you give him a chance to tell you what he wants.” Sayaka’s mother stood and embraced her daughter across the shoulders with her good arm. “You’re a chunin already -- it won’t be long until you make jounin too. Make a decision and stick with it, as the genin will look to you for guidance.”  
  
Sayaka sighed. “Yeah. Raiga-sensei said he won’t respect indecisiveness.” She looked at herself and broke away from her mother suddenly. She quickly shed her flak and cargo jackets and adjusted the sword to be more flush against her back. “Right, with the way my coat is set up I should have the ninjato underneath the coat to hide it -- so I can take enemies by surprise.” While she put her jackets back on, Sayaka saw a smile on her mother’s face. Approval. She’d seen her mother proud, but not often with approval mixed in. As a trap specialist, she’d struggled to earn her mother’s -- ninjutsu heavy -- professional respect.  
  
“Having surprises can save your life,” her mother said and tapped her prosthetic arm.  
  
On the walk to the Southern Gate, with her bag across her back, Sayaka contemplated how the mission would go. Would there be rebel remnants so close to Kirigakure after their failed attempt to capture the three-tailed demon? How long would it take to repair the damage to Fujioka Castle, and why did they need it rebuilt? The Fujioka family had been extinct for decades -- they had guarded the three-tails against the First Hokage, who killed them all to enslave the creature and sell it back to Kiri. The castle had been made a fortress to guard the three-tails between its deployments in a host body.  
  
_Protecting a demon_ , Sayaka thought with contempt. _Idiots had it coming._  
  
As she advanced to the gate, she saw a crowd of people dressed for a funeral. It didn’t take long to figure out why -- the class Noburu had come from just went through their graduation test a couple days prior. To her surprise, she saw Raiga and Noburu among them -- not dressed appropriately at all.  
  
Last time she had seen Noburu, he’d been in hospital garb. But now she saw him in strange dairy-cow patterned cold-weather sandal/legwarmers, baggy pants, a dark shirt and jacket combo with a dairy-cow patterned scarf. The darkness of the jacket hid several pockets -- she nodded appreciatively at the extra storage space. He wore his forehead-protector as she and Haruki did, so perhaps they could bond over their mutual baldness.  
  
Then someone stabbed him.  
  
It took her a second to process that she’d just watched someone stab her teammate before she instinctively began to run full-tilt toward the scene. _Why hadn’t Raiga-sensei done something?_ She thought as she ran.  
  
When she got closer, she realized Noburu didn’t seem overly bothered by the injury. He’d been stabbed with a kunai high in the chest -- and she could tell it’d gone in deep -- but he didn’t react.  
  
Noburu stared at his attacker, a grown man also of the foot caste, and didn’t react. He didn’t react as the man began to cry and realize what he’d done.  
  
Anger mixed with revulsion and -- for a brief moment -- utter hate.  
  
As Sayaka advanced on them, Raiga shunshined away from Noburu’s side and blocked her path. “Stop.” His order was quiet, and direct. When Sayaka obeyed, Raiga smirked. “Everything’s fine. Noburu can handle a civilian himself, no problem.”  
  
With her intervention stopped, Sayaka watched the scene unfold. _What in hell…?_  
  
“Did it do anything?” Noburu rasped at the civilian who’d attacked him. “Did it bring her back? Did it make you feel better?”  
  
“...Why won’t you die?” The man seemed genuinely perplexed. He asked the question again, confused and angry.  
  
“So no, it didn’t do anything for you. Good to know we both wasted our time with this.” Noburu reached up and casually pulled the kunai from his chest -- the civilian either too weak to resist, or too stunned. There was a lot of blood on the blade -- Noburu should have been seriously hurt, but he seemed _annoyed_ at worst. “I’m sorry for your loss, Arata. Goodbye.”  
  
Sayaka didn’t know what to make of the situation -- when Noburu turned to her she got a clear look at the injury, or rather, where it should have been. Instead, she saw a patch of pink skin through the gap in his jacket and shirt. It didn’t even have a mark of blood on it!  
  
“The price for a civilian attacking a shinobi of Kirigakure is death, Noburu,” Raiga said, offhand. It was like he wanted to share a fun fact.  
  
“The price for you ordering me to kill Water Country civilians is I feed you to Isobu, Raiga-sensei,” Noburu responded similarly offhand. While Sayaka clutched the sides of her head at one of her teammates leveling a _death threat_ at one of the Seven Swordsmen, Noburu walked past them.  
  
Sayaka quickly watched Noburu leave, convinced Raiga-sensei would kill her teammate outright then and there. But the attack never came. She looked up at Raiga and saw, to her surprise, a bead of sweat on the Swordsman’s forehead and an intense look on his face.  
  
Raiga caught her glance and shifted back to his usual self. “I-it’s good that he has a definitive line he won’t cross. And… that he cares so much for the welfare of the civilians.” Raiga-sensei composed himself and glared down at her. “But I only let that slide due to his injury. Don’t you get ideas.”  
  
“Of course not, Raiga-sensei,” Sayaka quickly said and bowed.  
  
“Good. I’m going to go make sure Noburu doesn’t stupidly bleed to death. You go find Haruki, and tell him we’re stopping by the hospital before we leave.”  
  
Sayaka bowed again. “Yes, Raiga-sensei.” By the time she’d risen from the bow, Raiga had vanished. She was left alone with the funeral attendees, and the man who had attacked her teammate. He too was dressed for the funeral, and held the bloody kunai in his fingers -- limp.  
  
Arata looked haunted by how Noburu hadn’t died. All of the anger had bled out of him, and he just seemed defeated.  
  
\--  
  
Genin Fujimoto  
  
Ridiculous! Insanity! Utter, complete madness!  
  
“Let me tell it to you again, all monosyllabic and stuff,” the Noburu-thrall said in a slow tone. “You haul...your own shit.”  
  
“You will not use such _vulgar_ terms in the presence of your betters, _thrall_!” Haruki snarled as he strained to haul his pack. Raiga-sensei had refused to order their foot caste to do the manual labor as it was intended, so it fell on Haruki to subjugate it with his will. “You are lowborn, I am highborn, you do as your betters dictate!”  
  
Noburu, in defiance of the natural order, continued to march through the snow. The roads out of Kirigakure were all covered in snow, and the south road had the added bonus of going uphill. A tiresome workout which any foot caste would be lucky to have!  
  
“You should have bought the bags with wheels,” Noburu said, still slow -- like he thought himself smarter. “Drag it in your wake, much more good.”  
  
“‘More good’ wasn’t the way to go there, genin,” Raiga-sensei called back to them from his position in the front. “Work on your vocabulary.”  
  
“Yes, Raiga-sensei.”  
  
Sayaka had spun some fanciful tale about how the foot caste had been stabbed -- but that couldn’t have been true. He had no problem with his own pack, clearly the wound had been imagined on her part.  
  
“When I’m appointed to a position within the village’s bureaucracy, I’ll make sure to remember you,” Haruki snarled to the defiant foot caste. “And put you in your place.”  
  
“Haruki,” Sayaka barked, “you have to carry your own gear. This is the basic requirement of all shinobi of the Hidden Mist. If you can’t do that, turn in your forehead protector, and get back to the village!”  
  
Outrageous! Spoken to by a lowly hand caste with such a tone! Haruki opened his mouth to retort, when he caught a glimpse of Raiga-sensei’s eyes. The jounin looked almost fed up. It was one thing to be shamed by the Mizukage into such a team. It would be an even deeper shame if his career was ruined because of it.  
  
_Bare it now, avenge it later_ , he told himself. When _he_ got to pick which missions they were assigned to. Careful to keep his features steeled, the eyes caste golden child reveled in how foolish they would seem. Too many ninja coveted the power to level a city, too many ninja coveted the money and fame from successful missions. Too few coveted the power inherent in the levers of power which actually ran a shinobi village. When he and his clan denied them promotions, denied them reinforcements, denied them supplies, but approved them to missions with ridiculous odds of death, they would rue the disrespect they’d shown.  
  
Rue it!  
  
While he fantasized about how he’d get vengeance, they ascended the hills outside of Kirigakure. At the topmost level, Raiga stopped them and pointed down toward the village. “Look,” he told the three of them. “Here, you can see the whole village. Everyone in that village depend on us to kill rebels before they arrive and lay the lives they’ve built to waste. That is what we’re fighting for in the home guard.”  
  
Haruki looked down upon the village -- its thick walls, tree-topped towers, and water all around. The snowfall would become mist in warmer seasons -- painters had come to such a place to capture the beauty in ink paintings for generations.  
  
“It rings ever so slightly hollow when plenty of people down there have already had their lives laid to waste,” Noburu snarked. He was soon cuffed on the back of the head for his cheek -- as he deserved.  
  
“Now then, Fujioka will be a couple days on foot, even with shunshin. I expect Haruki will drag us down even more, so let’s try to make as much progress as we can. Remember, you will all be training together after we make camp for the night.”  
  
Haruki flushed at the thought that he, a noble scion of the Fujimoto family, could be considered a burden, and promised himself he would show the lower castes how superior he was!  
  
Unfortunately, whilst they jumped from tree to tree with shunshin, Haruki slipped upon a patch of frozen bark and fell. He landed on his gut, and slowly slid off the branch to land face-first in a patch of snow. His bag landed on him a moment later to dig him even deeper.  
  
He heard Sayaka sigh, and the crunch of snow as someone landed near him. Then another someone. “Hold on Haruki, we’ll get you out.”  
  
The thought of needing _their_ help, after his mistake, made Haruki’s blood boil. Which, in turn, made his chakra boil. The snow all around him began to rapidly melt as his body emitted steam. In moments, he was damp and among a wet patch of exposed grass. He quickly stood up and fixed his bag with a scowl on his face.  
  
“I don’t need your help at -- ack!” Haruki found himself cut off with a firm slap to the back of the head from Raiga-sensei. Haruki had only seen Sayaka and Noburu, he hadn’t even picked up on Raiga’s arrival.  
  
“Idiot,” the jounin grumbled. “Rather than let your team get you out of the snow, you slow us down more by melting it? You’re all wet now, and it’s snowing! I’ve half a mind to let you freeze.” He pointed into the forest, and frowned. “Go get into dry clothes. Now.”  
  
“Fifty ryo says he doesn’t know how to dress himself,” Noburu said with a straight face as Haruki walked off.  
  
“One hundred says he asks one of us to dress him when he can’t figure it out,” added Sayaka.  
  
Haruki didn’t know if there was something worse than rue, but he would find out so that the two of them would be in that state some years out.  
  
\--  
  
Jounin Kurosuki.  
  
The jinchuuriki hadn’t attempted to run. That put the Anbu forces that followed them at ease, which either meant things would go boringly well or something absolutely stupid would happen. There was no in-between with the Anbu in Kiri.  
  
The brats had taken to Raiga’s instruction on camping well. While they stomped snow flat for their tent locations and the campfire, Raiga placed a wide-area genjutsu to hide their presence. The rebels had attacked close to Kiri once before, it stood to reason that they could again. And even if they didn’t, there were things just as dangerous as rebels among the trees.  
  
In the forests that grew in the shadow of Fujioka Castle, and Yu Palace, mysterious beasts and lively spirits walked like men. In winter, a fire was absolutely vital for civilians, but a fire and genjutsu would be even better. The Anbu could look after themselves.  
  
When he returned to camp, he was surprised to see the jinchuuriki on his knees in front of the fire. The boy knelt as if in prayer, and Raiga could make out words the boy said quietly through lip-reading.  
  
“He of great strength, teach me how to be strong. He of thunderous voice, teach me how to be heard.” The same two sentences, over and over.  
  
It didn’t take a genius to guess what the boy spoke to. The three-tailed beast.  
  
Raiga felt a chill that didn’t come from the cold as he recalled how casually the boy had threatened him with it. Yet, the boy continued to let Raiga smack him around. He still had to fully process what the implications of a friendly relationship with the bijuu would do for a jinchuuriki.  
  
“He’s been like that since he did… that,” Sayaka commented on Raiga’s stare. She indicated the tent space, and saw that a wide overhang of coral had grown over each spot -- like a lean-to. It would shield the tents from snowfall and the wind on one side. “I didn’t know he had a kekkei genkai too.”  
  
“I don’t know if he does,” Raiga muttered, mostly to himself. Louder, he spoke to the chunin directly. “Have you set up a perimeter of traps?”  
  
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Salt-acid bombs just in case something really nasty tries to come for us.”  
  
“Excellent.” He stopped to think about the eyes caste idiot he’d been saddled with. “You… didn’t make them so that Haruki or Noburu would activate one going to the bathroom, did you?”  
  
She gave him a flat look. “Raiga-sensei, I’m a professional. Of course I didn’t make them _that_ hair-trigger.”  
  
Raiga nodded at the confirmation and watched Haruki struggle to raise his tent on his own. The boy made an honest effort, at least, which is what Raiga expected. Success could come later, when there was less room for error. But on literally a first mission to investigate a battle’s remains? The genin could afford to be foolish.  
  
“For the love of,” Noburu said and stood up. He walked over to Haruki and crossed his arms. “The scraping is distracting me from meditating. I’m going to do my tent now, and you can watch it to show how you do it so much easier, alright?” The chubbier boy tapped his foot on the snow.  
  
Embarrassed, red-faced, and frustrated, Haruki looked like he was about to blow hot steam in Noburu’s face.  
  
The jounin was about to let the boys have their scrap before he glanced at the tree-line. There he saw an eerily pale womanly figure with piercing yellow eyes that shined in the dark -- like a beast’s. She wore a yellow kimono -- totally out of season -- and stepped back into the shadows when she realized Raiga had seen her. Whether a spy or a spirit, Raiga didn’t know or care. He clapped his hands to get the boys’ attention. “Instead of training by way of sparring,” he announced, as if it was his plan all along, “I am going to teach our genin how to do… the stretches and exercises needed before we start proper kenjutsu training.” He put his hands on his hips and glared at the boys. “After the tents are all up. The faster that happens, the more you learn.”  
  
He ignored how Sayaka did a fist-pump in the air and focused on the spot where he’d seen the strange woman. Hopefully the Anbu had seen her and gotten in position. If they hadn’t, and he included it in his report, he’d look like a madman.  
  
Well, a madd _er_ man.  
  
\---  
  
Felt things dragging a bit this chapter. Time for some action next time around!


	4. Steel on Shell

**Ch 4: Steel on Shell**  
  
\---  
  
Genin Fujimoto.  
  
After a day or so training and traveling with his team, Haruki began to suspect that there was something strange afoot. It couldn’t possibly be only an insult to the Fujimoto clan -- the Mizukage would not burn so many bridges for an insult in a civil war. While they lept from tree to tree, Haruki pondered it.  
  
_Lord Mizukage is a pragmatist,_ he told himself as he jumped in auto-pilot mode. _He gave that hand caste the Kiba swords because he’d earned them, even if it dishonored the swords. Honor means less to Lord Mizukage than results._ Then what results was he more interested in? What could he stand to gain from enraging the Fujimoto clan? Then it hit Haruki, like a moment of clarity.  
  
_That coral ability… the foot caste has a kekkei genkai of some kind, but without being of an established family! Lord Mizukage must have assigned me to his squad to teach him what is required of a kekkei genkai user in Kiri!_  
  
That was the risk they’d taken when the First Mizukage created the caste system. The foot caste would grow the fastest, so it was possible that they would develop bloodline powers and try to raise above their station. Naturally, Haruki would have to teach the Noburu-creature how to use its power and be a humble thrall at the same time.  
  
A difficult task, given how prone to talking back the foot caste was.  
  
“We’re approaching Fujioka Castle,” Raiga-sensei announced from the front. “Cease shunshin, and get to the forest floor.”  
  
At the forest floor, they grouped up and looked through the trees toward Fujioka Castle. A vast curtain wall topped with sea-green tiles surrounded the fortress, which sat elevated relative to the outer defenses. Before the age of shinobi, such defenses would have made it murderously difficult to take, as all the ramps up to the castle were guarded by gates and with defenses ready for defenders to attack from safety. After the advent of shinobi it was simply a fancy house. The shattered walls and collapsed towers from a recent battle without any damage to the curtain wall were evidence enough.  
  
The castle sat on a cliff which overlooked a lake, kept from the sea by a thin strip of rocky land. A scenic location, which Haruki wished he could visit in peacetime.  
  
“Haruki,” Raiga said as he scouted out the castle visually, “are you picking anything up?”  
  
“Nothing obvious, let me try to sense,” Haruki responded, eager to prove himself. A sensor type, he was sure he could ferret out any squatters. Haruki focused his senses and began to feel out for chakra signatures in that direction. “There’s lingering traces of several people, but nothing right now. It’s empty.”  
  
“Good, then we approach.” Raiga pointed at the tallest of the towers. “I will be there, to plan out how we rebuild the castle. The three of you will be assigned to specific areas of the damage to investigate what caused the damage and what you can make out about the rebel’s tactics from it.”  
  
Haruki blinked. Then he blinked again. “Raiga-sensei?” He didn’t want to ask, lest the answer be as he feared, but he felt he had to.  
  
Sayaka saved the day in that regard, and seemed to complete Haruki’s thought. “We’re going to be rebuilding the castle? Ourselves?”  
  
“That’s right.” Raiga crossed his arms. “Fujioka has been in need of modernization for decades -- which we will see to.” He pointed behind the castle, and Haruki followed his gaze. “You see that island in the distance? That is Nadeshiko, and Nadeshiko village has warning flares which are visible from Fujioka -- but not from Kirigakure.” He looked down on them and crossed his arms again. “The home guard’s job is a lot harder without an early warning system. So, we get Fujioka up and running again, modernized this time, then I assign a garrison.”  
  
“None of us have the skills needed to rebuild a castle,” Noburu added with narrowed eyes. “Unless they had castle building classes at the academy as an elective course. Princess,” he said as he turned to Haruki, “did they have elective courses like that at the academy?”  
  
“Well there were some basic design courses -- wait….” Haruki responded automatically, then processed he’d answered a question for the foot caste instead of the other way around, and what he’d answered to. Steam rose from his ears as he grit his teeth and fumed in Noburu’s direction. “Princess?!”  
  
“So yeah, no, the castle we’re going to build would be about as defensible as toilet against a t-rex.” Noburu completely disregarded Haruki’s rage, and turned back to Raiga. “Unless you have a ‘for dummies’ book on it?”  
  
Raiga nodded thoughtfully and promptly shunshined out of their line of sight. Haruki became aware of him again when one of Raiga-sensei’s hands grabbed his head, while the other grabbed Noburu’s, and slammed them together.  
  
“Your backtalking is going to get you a lot of injuries, Noburu,” Raiga commented and dusted his hands off while the boys held their heads. “Maybe you should look into learning medical ninjutsu.”  
  
“What did _I_ do, though?” Haruki whined.  
  
“Shut up. I have some associates who will help you with reconstructing the castle, and provide supplies.” Raiga smirked, and promptly bit his thumb.  
  
\--  
  
Chunin Kanzaki.  
  
“Washu-sensei, this looks like an electrical fire happened but was snuffed out. Am I right?” Sayaka leaned away from the floorboards she’d pulled up from around the scorch marked floor to let Raiga-sensei’s summon confirm her suspicions.  
  
A red ant, bigger than Sayaka’s thumb, wearing a tool belt scurried over and inspected the damage. “Oh this wiring is ancient,” she sighed. “It’s got dust all over it -- and it looks like rats got ahold of some of the wires. But yes, it looks like there was an electrical fire here.” She backed away and looked up at Sayaka. “Combine this with all of the water damage we’ve seen, and what do you get?”  
  
“A wide-area water release jutsu.” Sayaka pinched her chin and considered. “Which could mean either someone with strong enough chakra reserves to generate water, or they used the plumbing of the castle to use the jutsu.”  
  
“By the defenders, or the attackers?”  
  
Sayaka looked over the room and pondered. “Most of the water damage is over there, toward the main entrance.” She could practically envision it, shadowy figures that moved through handsigns against armed rebels, with water jutsu deployed to push them back out. “The defenders likely used the water jutsu to try and keep them out of the entrance hall.”  
  
“And why didn’t that work? And how does it relate to this electrical fire?”  
  
Those questions took longer to answer. All around the ruined entrance hall there were scorch marks like what she had inspected. The wood was warped as well as burned -- some combination of water damage, fire, and what almost looked like termite damage. It clicked, suddenly. “The six-tailed demon slug has acidic bubbles as its main power....” And the six-tailed demon slug in human form led the rebellion.  
  
Sayaka stood and backed up to look at the scene as a whole, and pieced it together. “The scorch marks all look like a splash pattern. The defenders fired water jutsu into an acid soap bubble from the demon slug, which popped and splashed acid in these spots. The electrical fire came from the acid eating through to the wires.”  
  
Washu nodded her heavily mandibled head. “That’s very good. Raiga will be pleased with your deduction skills.” She clapped her mandibles together. “Now let’s get to work on repairing this room. We’ll start with tearing out all the damaged wood.”  
  
Sayaka knew true regret then.  
  
Hours later, with her hands sore from all the wood she had to tear up, and with the knowledge she would have to do more the next day, she zombie-walked to the campsite. Again, Noburu had grown coral shelters for them. Her tent had even been set up for her!  
  
“Thank you, Noburu,” she groaned as she played the part of an old granny in her quest into the tent to lay down before lunch.  
  
“All I did was make the shelters,” Noburu’s voice said from his tent. “Princess got the tents up.”  
  
“Thank you, princess Haruki,” she said in reply.  
  
“I will get my vengeance on the both of you,” Haruki snarled from his tent. After he calmed down, the eyes caste boy stuck his head out of his tent. “What task did the ants have you two do?”  
  
“I examined the entrance hall and started to work on the wood.” Sayaka stretched and stuck her head out of her tent to watch the fire. “If I didn’t know the six-tailed demon -- “  
  
“Spirit,” Noburu quickly corrected.  
  
“ -- had been here… what?” Sayaka turned to look at Noburu’s tent in disbelief. “Huh?”  
  
“Saiken is a spirit. Not a demon.” Noburu stuck his head out for a moment to look at her with narrow eyes. “When you see a real demon, you’ll know the difference.” And then he was back in his tent.  
  
“Saiken? You know its name?”  
  
“So does Princess, it’s recorded in the library.”  
  
“Stop calling me Princess!” Haruki shouted, with steam in his ears.  
  
Sayaka was about to push further, when she heard a faint chime of bells. There were no windchimes in Fujioka, but she used the sound as an early warning system for parts of her trap array. Paper seals that chimed when strong chakra signatures passed by them. “Haruki,” she barked, “I need you to try and sense any chakra coming from the forest -- now!”  
  
Her instincts, trained on the front lines, told her that enemies were inbound -- but with Haruki she could tell how many. Her teammates at least were quick on the draw -- Haruki closed his eyes to focus and Noburu emerged from his tent with a kunai in hand. Sayaka popped a summoning scroll out of her flak jacket -- a bit of blood and she had proximity paper-bombs with her.  
  
“I’m sensing two reasonably large chakra sources, in the trees. I’d say… chunin? Toku-jou, maybe?”  
  
Sayaka glanced up at the castle, and saw that the room where Raiga-sensei had planned the reconstruction was still lit up. They had backup at least. “Commit the courtyard layout to memory,” she told the genin and put her fingers into the tiger-seal. “All together, hidden mist jutsu!”  
  
The three of them together didn’t have as much chakra as a jounin would -- the mist their skill produced didn’t totally blind them -- it wouldn’t totally blind their enemies either. Sayaka tossed a kunai with a wire tied to its hilt so that it dug into the wall in one corner, then cut the wire and threaded proximity paper bombs down it, and threw a second kunai to create a diagonal trap through the courtyard. Without time to place landmines or other traps, she had to make the enemy’s approach as dangerous as possible.  
  
“See, this kinda reaction speed speaks of an environment not at all fit with kids of our developmental level,” Noburu commented.  
  
“Would you shut up and make yourself useful,” Haruki snarled and got to his feet. “I have water and fire ninjutsu, what jutsu do you have?”  
  
“Transformation, substitution, hidden mist, and basic clone.” Noburu’s answer shocked the other two, and he seemed to take offense. “Hey, all Raiga-sensei has done is hit me and showed us how to stretch, I haven’t actually learned anything from him.”  
  
_I really hate that that’s a completely fair point_ , Sayaka told herself and threw another wire-kunai bearing proximity bombs through the air. “What about your coral kekkei genkai?”  
  
“That’s not what my kekkei genkai is, and I haven’t figured out how to use coral as a weapon yet. Piercing spikes are easy, long sharp edges not so much!”  
  
“Then make sloped barriers,” Haruki snapped back, in possession of a good idea for once. “Like those lean-tos!”  
  
Noburu got on that, but they didn’t have much time to get ready.  
  
The mist suddenly parted, as if an object flew through it, and sailed over the lines of proximity bombs in their entirety. They landed on the castle wall, and quickly began to make handsigns. That didn’t make sense to Sayaka’s eyes -- the enemy was dressed in the simple sleeveless shirt, baggy pants, and straw hat of a rebel monk. But the monk lacked their telltale polearm, and they didn’t make use of handsigns as shinobi did. “Wind release: Great Breakthrough!”  
  
A sudden gale of wind cleared a large volume of mist and knocked the genin off their feet. Fortunately, Sayaka was weighed down by her heavy jacket and remained on her feet. She only had a moment to see a brief flash of lightning inside before a displacement of air behind her served as a warning.  
  
She reached for the sword on her back and got the shortsword out just in time to block an iajutsu draw slash from another false monk with a katana. _This doesn’t make sense_ , she said to herself as she kept her blade locked against the enemy’s. _These aren’t monks at all! A false flag operation?!_  
  
Her opponent suddenly exploded into smoke, and a log impaled with a coral spike remained in their place.  
  
“Oh hey,” Noburu panted. He was still on the ground, with a hand extended, and the other braced on it. “I’ve figured out how to make a coral speargun. Awesome.”  
  
An explosion rocked the castle, and Sayaka saw Raiga-sensei in the air with swords drawn in pursuit of the first false monk.  
  
“There he is,” Sayaka muttered. With sword in hand, she acted like Raiga-sensei wasn’t there, and she was in command -- if anything happened, it would be her responsibility. “Noburu, guard Haruki -- Haruki, I need your senses telling me where the swordsman is!”  
  
“But I have the most ninjutsu to use,” the eyes caste boy whined. He still knelt under one of the lean-tos so Noburu could get in position.  
  
“And they know to close the gap before you can use ninjutsu! I just need to know where they are.”  
  
She heard steel clash in the mist -- Raiga-sensei had engaged at least one of them, then.  
  
“On approach,” Haruki said with his eyes closed, “coming from down low, going for you Sayaka!”  
  
With a flick of her wrist, Sayaka had a kunai in her hand and threw it straight up. A moment later she saw the figure of the katana-wielding false monk advance on her through the mist again. Their eyes were narrowed when they saw she hadn’t moved from her defensive stance. As they approached however, Sayaka began to smirk.  
  
She got to watch horror blossom on their face as a broken wire with a proximity paper bomb fluttered down right in their path. The paper tag caught flame from proximity, and an explosion dispersed more of the mist. That was satisfying, but not nearly enough to kill a chunin.  
  
“On the ground, six feet from the explosion site -- on their feet again!” Haruki informed her, perhaps too loudly. “On approach again -- heading for me and the thrall!”  
  
Sayaka quickly moved to throw another kunai, one that had a simple contact-trigger explosive-tag attached, but the false monk jumped over it rather than dodge. They soared over the lean-to and turned with shuriken in hand to throw at the genin behind it. A coral spike flew out, shuriken flew down, and Sayaka heard the sound of steel on stone. At least it wasn’t flesh.  
  
The false monk landed with a coral spike lodged in their chest. Unlike Noburu, the false monk had the unfortunate natural reaction to a chest wound -- profuse bleeding and shortness of breath.  
  
That made it really hard to dodge the ball of lightning that sailed at him between the lean-tos and promptly electrocuted him into unconsciousness.  
  
“Raiga-sensei,” Sayaka said as she processed who with them had lightning jutsu, “you won against the other one?”  
  
Her answer was a legless cadaver that was tossed into her field of view. Raiga strode in a moment later, tears on his face, and an expression of annoyance. “Don’t mind this,” he said as he took a handkerchief from his jacket to clean off tears and blood from his face. “Just something that happened.” Once he was done, he glanced at Sayaka and jerked his head toward the bodies. “Examine the dead one, finish the unconscious one.”  
  
“Y-yes, Raiga-sensei,” Sayaka said with a bow.  
  
“And good use of a ninjato -- I’ll be sure to add more kenjutsu to your training.” He turned to face the genin while Sayaka cheered in her mind. “You two did… not terribly. You followed your superiors' orders, that was good.”  
  
As Sayaka sheathed her sword, she glanced back and saw that Noburu had grown coral over one of his arms, presumably to shoot the false monk. He still had two shuriken jabbed into him -- one at his thigh, and the other in his free hand. That would need treatment. There was something up with his eyes -- she didn’t have a good enough look to truly see it.  
  
Haruki looked stunned at the katana-wielding false monk, as if he’d never seen death before.  
  
_Guess not going through the graduation has drawbacks_ , she viciously thought to herself. A kunai to the neck ended the impaled false monk’s life, and she began to examine them both. The results weren’t good.  
  
“Raiga-sensei, I know these people.” She’d removed their straw hats and searched their pockets and found Kirigakure forehead protectors to confirm her suspicions. She hadn’t been in the academy for a year, but she knew the faces. “These are two instructors from the ninja academy, Sojiro-sensei and Yusuke-sensei.”  
  
Raiga stepped away from the boys to examine the corpses alongside her. “So, the two of them wanted… what exactly?” He arched his brow at the cadavers. “Vengeance for something? Did they intend to turn traitor and sell our corpses for bounty money?” The jounin sighed. “They’re dead now, and they wanted anyone who saw them to think them rebels. What’s likely to happen is that the Mizukage will declare them rebels, and punish their families harshly.”  
  
Sayaka nodded, and felt bad for Yusuke-sensei’s wife, and Sojiro-sensei’s younger siblings. They would be punished and shamed for their loved one’s betrayal -- on top of losing them. She removed all the equipment and weapons from the bodies with Raiga-sensei’s help.  
  
“I’ll prepare these two for a funeral,” the jounin said. “Get all those explosive tags you have out there sealed up again.”  
  
“Yes, Raiga-sensei.” Glad to be done working with corpses, she stood and walked away from them.  
  
“Sayaka,” Raiga called out, then tossed Sojiro-sensei’s katana to her. “Tell the boys to get ready for a sparring match after we’re done with the funeral. Winner gets to keep the sword.”  
  
_Oh boy_ , she thought to herself as she examined the weapon. _Giving the boys a prize to fight over will make the fight turn ugly… that’s going to be some prime entertainment!_  
  
She didn’t think, until much later, how odd it was that she didn’t have a greater reaction to her former teachers having tried to kill her team. She’d liked them, and then she’d helped kill them, and it didn’t bother her much.  
  
Maybe their academy training had worked, then? And she had become a competent kunoichi who could answer traitors without emotion? It was something she wanted to talk to her mother about when she got home.  
  
“Boys,” she called to the genin, “Raiga-sensei told me to let you know….”  
  
\---


	5. Transient Beauty

**Ch 5: Transient Beauty**  
  
\---  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke.  
  
It wasn’t often that Saiken bade Kousuke to meditate and hear his wisdom. The slug spirit was content in his spiritual enlightenment, and how Kousuke used his powers, mostly. Liberation of the chained was something a bijuu could appreciate. Soon, Kousuke found himself in the watery halls of his mind -- a deep cave system pierced by man-sized crystals that hummed as he passed. His visage reflected on the water’s surface -- a tall and corpulent monk in black robes with a brown rakusu. His shaved head was covered by a broad and flat straw hat. His ears were pierced with large gold hoops, and he carried a shakujo which rang out his every step.  
  
Kousuke removed his hat as he approached the area where the seal between him and Saiken had once been, long removed. “Master,” the monk greeted and bowed low. “You called me?”  
  
“Oy,” Saiken’s bubbly voice called from inside the chamber of his former prison. “How many times do I gotta tell you, eh? The master and student thing is old hat.” Moments later, Saiken slid into Kousuke’s view. Taller than some mountains, a white slug with six slime-coated tails, and two tiny arms among his rolls of tissue. Soap bubbles followed him as he approached, each filled with a scene of precious beauty. “It’s weird to bow to your friends, yeah?”  
  
“Only if you’re the only one bowing,” the monk said and smirked.  
  
Long-suffering, the fatty slug sighed and bent in mimicry of Kousuke’s bow. “You’re so mean to me, Kou-chan. Making an old slug like me bend so low for formality’s sake, yeah?”  
  
“Old slugs like you should get their exercise.” Kousuke sat down in the ankle deep water of his thoughts, and put his hat back on. “You had something to say?”  
  
Ponderously slow due to his size, the six-tailed slug of transient beauty rose back to his full height. “Isobu has begun to talk to me again. He’s been sealed into a host.”  
  
Kousuke sighed through his nose and tilted his head down. “And let me guess, they used that awful fish hook seal we heard about?”  
  
“Ah, Kou-chan, you’re so insightful!” Saiken swayed from side to side happily, and swung more bubbles free as he did. “But there’s good news! Isobu found a loophole!”  
  
The monk looked up with a hopeful look. “He’s escaped?”  
  
“Not at all!” Saiken shuddered and blew a large bubble from his slimy mouth which floated down to sink into the water in front of Kousuke. “Isobu’s chubby little jinchuuriki has been respectful, patient, and rather like a younger you.” The bubble’s oily surface shifted, and Kousuke saw within it an image of a fish hook seal with a turtle inside, and then an image of the three-tailed turtle adrift in a dark body of water with an enormous cruel-looking hook nearby -- baited with a person, a young boy. What the sealers had intended was clear.  
  
“Isobu feels a chat between the two of you might help them get to where we are. Not right away but a step in the right direction, yeah?”  
  
The monk nodded and stood up. With no hesitation he walked into the bubble’s surface. Its surface tension allowed him to pass through into the interior, whereupon Saiken tapped it. And then he, and the bubble, were gone.  
  
The great spirits were connected to each other, linked by bonds forged in the fires of creation. Through these bonds, they could speak to each other whenever they wished, or their jinchuuriki could speak with the bijuu’s blessing. Saiken sent Kousuke down the path between the six and three-tailed spirit’s homes. Inside the bubble, Kousuke glimpsed the realm of the spirits and saw that it was dark, it was empty, and it was no wonder they chose to live on Earth among mortalkind.  
  
A wall of water met Saiken’s bubble as the realm of the spirits gave way to Isobu’s dominion. Kousuke had only ever been to visit the four and five-tailed beasts, as their provinces were all adjacent to each other. The three-tailed turtle spirit’s dominion would be a new experience.  
  
Saiken’s bubble sank through an ocean’s worth of water. Kousuke could make out colossal pillars of coral in the distance -- with just enough light from the ocean’s surface to see animals which drifted between them. It seemed Isobu’s dominion was a clear spot in the forest of coral trees. A line of wire thicker than a ship’s mizzenmast was the only feature in the oceanic clearing. The bubble followed the wire down into the region where light struggled to reach. Just above the abyssal zone, Kousuke began to see the shape of the three-tailed spirit turtle.  
  
A massive, spiked, shell with two wing-like protrusions near the front. Three long, shrimp-like tails that ended in spikes. Arms like a human, with five fingers and spiked green skin like the shell. Its head had spikes along the crown, like hair, and a pronounced underbite with spikes that went from its lip to its chin like a beard. One massive eye was closed, but the other was open -- red sclera like muscle tissue and a ring of golden light around the pupil. A haunting sight.  
  
Isobu’s eye glanced at the monk in a bubble, then shifted back to its original focus -- the hook.  
  
A treble hook with serrations all down the bend and shank, and a massive feathery tuft around the eye which draped around it -- as if to hide its barbs. Vicious. On the hook was the same boy he’d seen in the bubble’s vision, at home in the water. He sat on the inner bend, one leg propped up and another free to swing in the water. Pale, but not evenly so. Some sections of the boy’s skin were a more natural tone, while others were visibly paler. The one exception was around his eyes. Bald, like Kousuke, with the seal on the back of his head.  
Kousuke’s bubble rested in the bend of an adjacent hook, and he stood within it. “Greetings, three-tailed jinchuuriki,” the monk said and removed his hat while he bowed.  
  
“Yo,” the three-tailed jinchuuriki responded with a strange hand-gesture. “Isobu told me you were coming. Kousuke, Saiken’s jinchuuriki, yeah?”  
  
“That I am.” Kousuke put his hat back on and sat down on the bend. “You and Isobu talk, do you?”  
  
“Yes,” Isobu’s voice rumbled like an underwater earthquake. “This one knows manners, when he cares to.”  
  
“An excellent beginning. What have you talked about?”  
  
The boy was quiet for a moment, before he turned his head to look at Kousuke. “Let’s address the elephant in the room,” he said, voice soft. “I do blame you for this situation -- because if you hadn’t rebelled then they wouldn’t have conscripted me, and made me kill my best friend to graduate.”  
  
Kousuke didn’t flinch at the information. He’d heard it hundreds of times from ninja that had defected from Kirigakure. That did not make it hurt any less.  
  
“But I hate imperialism as much as anyone -- and the Water Country government can go die, for all I care.” He paused, then arched his eyebrow. “You _are_ going to kill them, yeah?”  
  
“I will visit justice upon them,” Kousuke said, firm. “For some, that will mean death. For others, it will mean a cell for the rest of their lives. And for others still, it will mean only shame. Each according to their sin.”  
  
“So idealistic,” the boy commented. “No Robespierre are you. I wonder how that’ll play out with your followers.” He shrugged. “It’ll probably sour Kirigakure’s power for decades, at least. Assuming Kiri lives through this.”  
  
“I feel like we’re drifting off the topic….”  
  
“Sorry, it’s not often I get to speak to an actual revolutionary. Got a bit excited.” The boy swung his foot in the water. “I told Isobu what’s coming. It’s not likely either of us will live long enough to prevent what’s going to happen, but the bijuu return after we die. They can make plans.” The boy sighed. “It’s not likely they’ll believe me, but… I guess I’m flinging a light into the future.”  
  
While the boy talked, Kousuke felt his skin crawl inside the bubble. A deep sense of vertigo, like he was about to fall. “May I ask…?”  
  
“Madara Uchiha still lives, and he’s figured out how to summon the corpse of the ten-tails back to Earth. It’ll take him a while, but his plan is to re-create the ten-tails to become its jinchuuriki, and pretend he’s worth something. Obito might be salvageable, but it’ll probably be best for everyone if he’s just squished as a baby.” The boy blinked, and ran his hands across his face. “God, that’s a messed up thing to think. Guess I know how I’d respond to the Hitler baby question now.”  
  
Confused and with a sense of vertigo, Kousuke blinked rapidly as he processed what he’d just heard. “...You either have profound insight, or a colorful imagination. I’m not sure which.”  
  
“I’d go insight, but I’m biased.” He closed his eyes and slid down the bend some more. “I told Isobu if he goes down deep enough into the ocean, it’ll stall their plans out indefinitely.”  
  
“He’s being dramatic,” Isobu said with his eye on Kousuke. “We have discussed many topics, not just the future. That is something for us bijuu to discuss amongst ourselves.”  
  
“You believe him,” Kousuke said with shock. The vertigo began to lessen significantly. Perhaps someone in the waking world had tried to shake him.  
  
“I do. He has the eyes to back up his claim.” Isobu’s massive jaw moved, and bubbles rose up from the motion. “We have encountered an issue where he won’t expand his power as I wish he would. My power alone will not be sufficient.”  
  
“But,” the boy said, “if I become better at using his power and become a perfect jinchuuriki like you,” he indicated Kousuke, “one of the perks is the ability for Isobu to break any and all genjutsu that I get hit with. Which is an important milestone to work toward.”  
  
Kousuke leaned back and considered. “I am not a ninja, I’m a warrior, so I have an outsider’s perspective on this.” He looked at the boy with an understanding expression. “The spirits are not used to feeling weak. When confined within us, and they feel our weakness, they feel terrible anxiety. It is why so many jinchuuriki become so devastatingly powerful -- subconscious pushes by the bijuu.” He then turned to Isobu, and bowed his head. “And, lord, you are used to having people telepathically speak to you. You know what it is like to feel another’s thoughts, and know how to tell the truth from an illusion. But simple humans are not accustomed to these things. We can easily deceive ourselves, let alone be deceived by others.”  
  
The two were quiet as they thought about this.  
  
“I cannot teach him any jutsu, and I cannot build the relationship you need with your bijuu to that point for you.” He told the turtle spirit and the boy at once. “But… if I could come to you in the physical world, I could teach you what I know about the martial arts.”  
  
“...I don’t know that I’m strong enough to fight my way to where you are. Or that I could handle what that would mean,” the boy said. “We just killed two people who _posed_ as rebels, and their families will be punished as if they _were_ rebels. I only have my mom, dad’s side of the family is…,” he waggled his hand to the side, “at the best of times. I actually like my mom in this lifetime, she’s good.” He sighed. “After all these reincarnations, I finally get a good parent that I like, and she’s in fucking Kiri. Wonderful.”  
  
“...I think I know a way to help you out with that. But that’s more… mid to long term. Is there anything in the short term which you could use to ease Isobu’s anxiety?”  
  
The boy was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Finally, he sighed. “Guess Kakashi wasn’t so bad a teacher, if his strategies made an impression.” The boy looked at Kousuke, and his eyes widened. “I never introduced myself.”  
  
“Like I said,” Isobu muttered. “He has manners when he cares to.”  
  
Kousuke was far more concerned with how the boy’s brown eyes had vertical slit pupils, but smiled to soothe the boy’s distress. “Yes, if possible, I’d like to know your name before we meet in person.”  
  
“I’m Noburu Jiang,” he said, and bowed his head.  
  
“Kousuke of Sea Country.” Kousuke bowed his head. “Presently I’m on Ouza Island, and where are you?”  
  
“Fujioka Castle.”  
  
“Ah,” the monk sighed. “A few weeks too late for me to swipe you, then. I hope the castle didn’t fall into the lake, or anything?”  
  
“Nah, the snow stopped the fire. The castle’s mostly intact.”  
  
“Excellent. Now, I think I’d best make my way back to the waking world for now. I hope to speak to you again, face to face.” When all the goodbyes were said, Saiken’s bubble rose back up to return to Kousuke’s mind and Saiken’s dominion.  
  
In the waking world, Kousuke rose from his meditative pose and exited his undecorated tent. The fortified camp his army had built to plan for their next push would be gone come the next week. Toward the middle of the camp was the command tent, where tactical and doctrine decisions were made on the next battles and the war as a whole.  
  
“Friends,” Kousuke said as he used his staff to open the flaps of the tent. There had been no conversation for him to interrupt as he entered -- they had waited on him. “I have meditated, and come to a decision.” He looked around at his lieutenants, his friends, and siblings in arms, with a serene expression. “We will do as Tsuneo suggested,” he inclined his head to the skinny notary with a clipboard and a pencil in hand -- who was surprised by such an announcement. “We will hire ninja from another country.”  
  
As Tsuneo’s idea had been a last minute suggestion, many had strong opinions on the matter and voiced their displeasure.  
  
The monk jinchuuriki was quiet while they spoke, and waited until they were done before he spoke to refute the points they’d made. “Winter has come,” he indicated the outside, where snow continued to fall. “Which means that food will become harder to come by, our advance will stall out and if it stalls out we will be defeated by attrition. We have to guard our supply lines, and cut at our enemy’s.”  
  
He moved to the map on the central table and looked it over. “Our daimyo friends wish me to ask for less aid in liberating their fellows, enslaved by Water Country? Then we tell them to break out their chequebooks, and to go to the village we designate to hire shinobi to aid us.” Kousuke looked over the lands, and saw with heartbreak where Uzu had been. An entire strip of a big island, broken and thrown into the sea out of fear. A decision born of madness. “With Uzu gone, our closest hidden village neighbor is Kumo. But Kumo has problems of their own -- the eight-tails escapes his prison every month it seems like.” Kousuke shook his head. “Perhaps I could help with that, if I live through this war. But, with Kumo off the table it seems….” He tapped the swirl in the shape of a leaf, and nodded. “Konoha will do nicely.”  
  
\---  
  
Cast:  
  
Kousuke: A monk of the Water Temple, born in Sea Country before it was conquered by Water Country. He became the host of the six-tailed slug at five years old using a seal stolen from Uzushiogakure after Whirlpool Country's destruction. His time as a jinchuuriki wasn't meant to be long, as he was born with a terminal illness. However Saiken's regenerative abilities allowed him to live long enough for medical technology to cure his disease. An intensely spiritual man, whose combat ability comes from his skill at martial arts, his extensive self-education, and his years as the six-tails' student. No caste.  
Saiken: One of the nine bijuu, great spirits of pure chakra that once wandered the world. Saiken is found in humid conditions, typically caves and marshes but sometimes rainforests. Despite his power over water, he is not often found at sea or in great bodies of water. Saiken is covered in acidic slime that he can control which easily forms into soap bubbles. His soap bubbles can show people visions of far off places, or their own memories -- but only moments at a time. Saiken assists with erosion, and finds transient art sublime. Bijuu.  
Isobu: One of the nine bijuu, great spirits of pure chakra that once wandered the world. Isobu is often found in or near the water -- he prefers warmer water to cold, but will migrate when allowed to roam. Of all the bijuu, his chakra control is the greatest -- which allows him to make use of skills which the others lack, such as genjutsu, clone jutsu, and space-time ninjutsu. Isobu's carapace is hard and spiked, making him tricky to harm but allows him to inflict grievous harm when attacked. He ensures the health of large bodies of water, destroys invasive species and lays waste to polluters. Isobu has been known to fall asleep listening to whalesong. Bijuu.


	6. Grudges

**Ch 6: Grudges**  
  
\---  
  
Genin Fujimoto  
  
After he’d spent the morning using fire release to weld pipes together for the castle’s plumping, Haruki had wanted to sit on the outer all and enjoy the serene beauty of the winter. He jumped up to the tiled roof, cleared off some of the snow, and sat down to enjoy the scenery. And then he saw that insolent foot caste boy running at a tree.  
  
With a kunai in his hand, the thrall ran at the tree and tried to run up its side. Sometimes he’d be launched off as wood exploded under his feet, but other times he’d slide. Haruki scratched his head as he watched, and saw the thrall scratch a line in the tree as he got higher up.  
  
“The only way the tree would explode under him is….” Haruki muttered, then widened his eyes. “Wall walking?” The heir scowled and jumped from the roof to the pine trees across from it, then shunshined to Noburu’s tree. He crossed his arms and looked down at the thrall. “What are you doing?”  
  
Noburu, on his back in the snow, promptly held up his middle finger. “Your mother, that’s what I’m doing. I think she’s got another round in ‘er.” With that he got back to his feet and backed up for another run.  
  
Haruki seriously considered if it would be worth the Mizukage’s displeasure to murder Noburu then and there. While Noburu ran up and notched a new record, Haruki fumed and plotted vengeance.  
  
“Woo, she did! Thank you ma’am.” Noburu rose his arms in a victory pose, hampered by his spot on his back in the snow. Again. “I’m going to give her a few minutes before we try again to get you a younger sibling, princess.”  
  
With his eye a-twitching from his temper, Haruki smirked and casually planted one foot on the side of the tree-trunk. Then the other. He walked a complete circuit around the pine, and put his hands on his hips as he looked down on Noburu. “I guess I’m doing _your_ mother now,” Haruki said, smug.  
  
“Well, that would require doing that to a different tree.” Noburu raised his brow, and Haruki saw that the thrall’s pupils weren’t round, but vertical ellipsis. Odd. “As we’ve previously established, this tree represents your mother, so you’re basically doing your own mom.”  
  
“Are you upset that I won Sojiro-sensei’s sword, or something?” Haruki adjusted the blade on his back. “It was as fair a competition as can be had between eyes and foot caste… persons. No reason to be so hateful.”  
  
“Oh princess,” Noburu sighed, and chuckled. “This isn’t me being hateful. You haven’t seen me be hateful. I’m just taking the piss outta you.”  
  
Haruki’s train of thought was completely thrown off by that. “Wh-what? You’re doing _what_?”  
  
“Taking the piss outta you. Ribbing you. Joking, dumbass.” Noburu explained three times, and by the third he was fed up. “Geeze, you eye caste folks need to work on your vernacular.”  
  
“Eyes,” Haruki corrected him, sharply. “Plural.”  
  
“We’re singular, so you people can be singular too. Nya.” The foot caste stuck his tongue out at Haruki. “As for the sword, whatever. I’ve already grown back the teeth you knocked out -- how’re you doing on that?”  
  
Haruki frowned and rubbed his mouth where a couple of his baby teeth had been knocked out or required pulling from the spar. “Fine. Why are you trying to learn how to wall walk? You’re foot caste, they’re going to send you on missions at the front -- you won’t need this. And you can jump higher than this.”  
  
Noburu’s eyes narrowed, and the foot caste smirked. “Maybe. Maybe if I get good enough at killing people, I’ll get promoted. And then again. And then again.”  
  
“Pff, idiot.” Haruki rolled his eyes. “From genin, you go to chunin, then to jounin. There is no rank higher than jounin.”  
  
“Technically, there’s Anbu.” He held up a finger to indicate the technicality. “But there’s another rank, too. One with a fancy hat and nice office.”  
  
It took him a moment to realize what Noburu meant, and he couldn’t help but laugh. A deep laugh, at the absurd thought of a _foot caste_ succeeding Lord Mizukage. The forest echoed with it, though it didn’t seem to shake Noburu’s smirk. Haruki collected himself before he spoke again, in a much better mood. “You? As Mizukage?! That’s impossible, literally impossible. You’re foot caste, the Mizukage is of the eyes caste.”  
  
“The First through Third are,” Noburu held up his correction finger again. “But the Fourth? Who knows.” Still on his back in the snow, Noburu crossed his arms. “The Third Mizukage is a man defined by his pragmatism. I mean, he gave those swords to Raiga-sensei, and he’s,” Noburu feigned a gasp, “hand caste. If I’m the best man for the job, it won’t really matter what caste I am, not to the Third.”  
  
Those words had the cold, harsh, unforgiving ring of truth to them. They utterly ruined the good mood Haruki had just gotten, and tore the smile off his face.  
  
“I mean, he’s done so many unprecedented things out of pragmatism already. He’s partnered you and I together, and he’s trusted the defense of Kirigakure to a hand caste -- directly snubbed your relatives to do that, if I remember. He’s clearly not motivated by tradition above all else.”  
  
Haruki frowned, and hated that he couldn’t immediately defeat the foot caste’s logic.  
  
“Anyhoo, I think I’ve given your mother a long enough break. C’mon, daughter!” Noburu quickly jumped to his feet and tried to run up the tree again.  
  
Later that evening, Raiga-sensei surprised them with a reward that didn’t involve being punched in the least.  
  
After they’d eaten their food -- Noburu had cooked, and did so well -- Raiga had stood up for an announcement. “I’ve gotten the castle’s plumbing and water-heater working again. Tonight, we bathe properly.”  
  
As everyone was sick and tired of the field bathing they had to endure, there was no back-sass. Even Noburu shut his miserable mouth, for once. Sayaka went first, as she was the only woman on the team, and she was surprisingly scary when she wanted to be.  
  
“Me first, or you all wake up with a motion-trigger explosive tag on your heads,” had been her exact words.  
  
It was no problem for the boys, they waited for their turn while Sayaka got to enjoy hot water for the first time in two weeks. Once she was done, she skipped out of the baths fresh as a daisy with an enormous smile. Then it was the boy’s turn.  
  
Raiga-sensei took the longest in the initial cleaning phase -- he had hair. And in the time it took for them to wait to transition to the soak portion of the bath, Haruki noticed something odd about his teammate.  
  
“Are... portions of your skin paler than others?” He blinked when he noticed what almost looked like splotches of paleness.  
  
“Yup,” Noburu readily admitted. He held up his hand and showed how it was tanner than his forearm, but not as tan as his shoulder. “I’m fairly certain it’s a change brought on by puberty. My dad was super pale, and I’ve got a feeling his traits are gaining dominance.”  
  
Haruki frowned and crossed his arms. “Idiot, that’s not how genes work. They’re either dominant from the beginning, or they’re not.”  
  
“In a normal human, yes. I’m not.” Noburu turned to look at Raiga-sensei and offered a quip. “Maybe you should join the bald crew like the rest of us, it’d be a lot less work.”  
  
“Maybe I should see if you can regenerate hands like you regenerate teeth,” Raiga-sensei snarled and continued to scrub his hair.  
  
Haruki blinked as he tried to parse what he’d heard Noburu say, then glanced at the back of his teammates head. He saw an impressive tattoo resembling a fish hook surrounding a turtle-creature, similar in appearance to the three-tailed demon turtle. Perhaps a cultural thing?  
  
It suddenly made sense why Noburu could take such punishment and shrug it off -- he’d had to have pain tolerance to get such a tattoo in the first place.  
  
The attention to detail on the turtle’s eyes was stunning, he noted as he turned away and waited for Raiga-sensei to finish. It was like they looked back at him, no matter what angle he viewed them from.  
  
\--  
  
Third Mizukage  
  
The Mizukage’s residence was a piece of art, a structure from the time of the warring states brought into the modern era by Ryukotsusei’s memory. The First Mizukage had been too spartan for such things as an extravagant living arrangement; his residence had been a fortified bunker which was the cellar of the modern building. Ryukotsusei’s predecessor hadn’t ruled long enough to see the building completed.  
  
But he had. Ryukotsusei was tied with the longest rule of any Kage, with Onoki of Iwagakure -- ten years Ryukotsusei’s junior. Under his rule, Kirigakure’s vicious temperment had been honed to a keen edge and they’d grown fat with strength.  
  
In some cases, Ryukotsusei pondered as he watched his new personal chef serve his food, they had just grown fat. A luxury born from Ryukotsusei’s success. “What is that,” the Mizukage asked and leaned forward in his seat to see an item on the tray. “The clear thing?”  
  
Akami Jiang, the Mizukage’s new leash on his jinchuuriki, paused in her preparations but a moment. “Raindrop cake, Lord Mizukage. Served with additions to help control the flavor to your lordship’s taste.”  
  
He liked that he could control the flavor, but felt it a bit cheap to take the work away from the chef to produce delicious food. “Why does it have a flower inside?”  
  
“That is an illusion created by injecting food coloring into the cake. It looks real, yes?” The large chef smiled, but Ryukotsusei noticed a bead of sweat on her forehead. She knew she was at risk of the Mizukage’s displeasure.  
  
As long as she feared him, he was content. “It does. I appreciate the artistry.” Ryukotsusei sipped his tea as his meal was prepared.  
  
A gentle knock at his door distracted the Mizukage but a moment. No two people knocked the same, and he could tell who had come to see him. She knew she could come in.  
  
“Akami,” Ryukotsusei said as the door opened. “Some tea for my guest, please.”  
  
“Of course, Lord Mizukage,” the foot caste chef bowed and prepared a cup. “I could whip up something for them in just a few -- “  
  
“Tea.” Ryukotsusei was firm. He didn’t even open his eyes from his last sip. “And nothing else.”  
  
“Yes, Lord Mizukage.”  
  
Fu Sun sat down next to Ryukotsusei and readily took her tea once it was served. She said nothing until Akami had left the room and departed down the hall. “A foot caste in the Mizukage’s abode? Scandalous.”  
  
“A leash on that jinchuuriki is required and I will not have a foot caste in my sight that doesn’t work for its pittance.” Ryukotsusei set his tea aside and picked up his chopsticks to begin his meal. “You would not be here unless it was important.”  
  
The elderly woman nodded. “Your gamble has backfired spectacularly.” She sipped her tea again, and waited until Ryukotsusei had swallowed his morsel before she talked. He was old, he could choke. “Not deploying the jinchuuriki to the front has emboldened Kousuke. He’s had emissaries from Sea, and Moon go to Konoha. We only learned about this by happenstance.”  
  
Ryukotsusei paused in his meal a moment in surprise, but he quickly returned to it. He’d paid good money for food served hot. “When will they arrive?”  
  
“They’re already there. Shimura’s man slipped up, and our spies got visual confirmation.” She held the tea cup in her hands and allowed herself a moment of unprofessional despair. “We don’t yet know how many, or if they will send one of their great names.”  
  
The Mizukage considered this and shook his head. “We must redistribute forces, perhaps pull back from Ouza Island entirely and fortify Nagi until we know for certain what force from Konoha Kousuke has been able to secure.”  
  
“The daimyo will not approve of such happenings. Already he wails night and day for his toys to be returned to him.”  
  
“He’s a teenager,” Ryukotsusei sighed. “Teenagers are like that. Have you forgotten?”  
  
“Have you forgotten that Moon Country is wealthy beyond reason, and we cannot afford to coddle a squalling daimyo _and_ wage war simultaneously,” Fu scolded him, she dared even put heat into her voice. “They can afford to send an S-class ninja after us, and we have had our defenses to the west thin this whole time. You think they won’t remember who put Uzushiogakure to the torch, Two-Faced Dragon?”  
  
Ryukotsusei paused in his meal to glare at Fu. He said nothing, he let the weight of his visible displeasure and his overwhelming killing intent reprimand the old woman as words could not. When she turned her gaze from him, he returned to his meal. “We are Kirigakure, the Bloody Mist. The more bodies they send at us, the more blood we spill, and the more vicious our tactics will become. And while we have the three-tails close to the village, we will have the option to unleash it upon Konoha’s forces. Send word to Raiga, post-haste.”  
  
Fu finished her tea, for to do otherwise would be to insult the Mizukage’s hospitality, and departed.  
  
_Who will it be,_ Ryukotsusei wondered as he ate. _Orochimaru? Konoha’s White Fang? Jiraiya? Will they use us to launch another star’s career? Tsunade is too cowardly to take the field again. Shimura never recovered from that lost eye. Who else do they have?_ He continued to ponder, and to eat, until he had to return to work.  
  
\--  
  
Third Hokage.  
  
In the forests of Konoha, in the village hidden among the leaves, in the Hokage’s tower, preparations for combat were made.  
  
“Ah, sensei… I can’t say this is a good idea.”  
  
Hiruzen Sarutobi continued his preparations. Scrolls sealed inside of other scrolls, for the sake of transport. Gone were the robes of the Hokage, and he stood there dressed in his black fatigues and his armored helm -- ready to go to battle. “I don’t see why,” the Hokage said, coy. “Assassinating a daimyo is a major mission -- the fire daimyo demands that any such missions be done under the Hokage’s direct supervision, lest war result. And helping a rebellion? There’s so many skills that are needed -- we couldn’t afford to send enough personnel.”  
  
His students, two of the Sannin stood close by. The pale-skinned, dark haired, golden-eyed, snakely figure at the door was Orochimaru. Ruthless, borderline vicious, Orochimaru was the greatest of the Sannin and had a lot of Sarutobi’s hopes bound up in him.  
  
Jiraiya, the one who had spoken, was the opposite of Orochimaru. Bulky to his slenderness, white-haired to his dark, and kind to his ruthlessness. Jiraiya looked at Sarutobi with a twitching eyelid, and looked to Orochimaru for support. “C’mon sensei, Orochimaru or I can handle the mission. You don’t need to go out to Water Country… or you could at least take one of us with you.”  
  
“If too many of us leave the village,” Orochimaru smoothly cut into the conversation, “then some foolish people at our border might get… ideas.” The snake Sannin wasn’t pleased by the situation, but he didn’t harp on it. “You’re sure you can handle this on your own, sensei?”  
  
“I will take some Anbu with me, to put your fears to rest.” Hiruzen was going to do so anyway, but he’d held out to make it seem a concession. He looked over his shoulder at his two students. “I don’t want you two arguing over who is in charge. You’re part of a team -- work together while I’m gone.”  
  
“Of course, Sarutobi-sensei.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
  
Orochimaru turned to Jiraiya, “I’ll handle the paperwork, and keep mission assignments going while you handle meetings. How’s that work for you?”  
  
Half-heartedly, his other student gave his thumbs-up.  
  
Pleased that the two of them would work together for once, Hiruzen put the last scroll he felt he needed in his equipment pouch.  
  
“However, sensei, I need to know.” Orochimaru phrased his question as a minor curiosity, like it didn’t really matter. “Is this about the incident with Uzu?”  
  
Hiruzen kept his face stony. Yes, an element of payback was at play. No, it wouldn’t do to tell his likely successor that the pursuit of personal vendettas was appropriate for a Hokage. “If Uzushiogakure still existed, they would have gotten this mission instead of us; I am well aware. Ryukotsusei is a deadly foe, and I wouldn’t throw myself at him over a mere grudge.”  
  
Orochimaru smiled, serene despite how thinly veiled his question had been. “Good to know, sensei.”  
  
The Hokage turned his focus to Jiraiya. “Don’t follow me, Jiraiya.”  
  
His student dared to play dumb. “I’ve no idea what you mean, sensei.”  
  
“I am trusting you with the village. Our village. You are to stay here, and guard the village.”  
  
“I understood that the first time you said it, sensei.” He held up the charade for a moment under Sarutobi’s gaze, but the pressure broke. “But you’re getting on in years…. You don’t have to go there yourself to directly supervise.”  
  
“And how do you see the other nations seeing that?” Sarutobi arched his brow and crossed his arms behind his back. “It’s one thing for a Kage level shinobi to go on a mission of this level, it’s another thing entirely for a Kage to go on a mission of this level. There is a certain degree of respect conveyed by one Kage facing another.” Sarutobi’s expression became wry. “And there’s a certain level of disrespect to have a Kage defeat another, assassinate their daimyo, and play their armies for fools.”  
  
“I’ll be sure to remember that,” Orochimaru commented.  
  
Hiruzen nodded even though he felt a sudden chill down his spine. _Oh, that’s not a good omen at all…_  
  
\---  
  
Cast:  
  
Hiruzen Sarutobi: Third Hokage of the Hidden Leaf, known as the Professor. A skilled educator, combatant, and strategist. Thus far he has ruled Konoha longer than the First and Second Hokages combined. His reputation largely precedes him. No caste.  
Orochimaru: This information has been removed from the public record. No caste.  
Jiraiya: One of the legendary Sannin, known as the Toad Sage. A legendary ninja, and skilled novelist known for his perversion and skill in combat. Has a tendency to make terrible decisions. No caste.  
  
\---  
  
Now, I’m actively trying to avoid explosive escalation so there won’t be any Hiruzen vs Ryukotsusei cage matches in the next chapter. That’s not to say there won’t be a cage match eventually. Hypothetically. I have yet to find a cage big enough to contain Ryukotsusei’s ego, which is a surprise because we canonically have one which can hold Orochimaru’s.


	7. The Great...

**Ch 7: The Great…**  
  
\---  
  
Isobu.  
  
The turtle spirit’s thoughts arched through the leyline connections which bound the bijuu together. Too often, they went unused. Isobu brushed the wear and tear off them as his mind passed through them, his very presence renewed the bonds. He’d already shared the dire warnings with seven of his siblings -- it had come time to warn the last. The most standoffish sibling -- more so than even Shukaku -- and in their mind the greatest. Kurama, nine-tailed calamity, and the spirit of karma.  
  
Isobu’s watery dominion gave way to the utter emptiness of the spirit world. His form took shape, and he waited for Kurama to emerge as well. For a long while, there was nothing and Isobu settled himself down to wait. Kurama would emerge eventually -- in a moment, in a day, in a year, or in ten years. What he had to say was worth the patience.  
  
At last, Kurama emerged from the void. Titanic, even among the bijuu -- no mountain in Fire Country was tall enough to reach Kurama’s elbows. Covered in burnt orange fur, with nine snake-like tails and massive ears whose black interiors swept down to surround the fox spirit’s red eyes.  
  
“You’re pestering me, little brother,” the fox spirit hissed between massive teeth with their lips pulled back. “There was a time you wouldn’t come to me without another to guard your flank. Have you upset our siblings so much that none stand with you?”  
  
Isobu took a deep breath and tried hard not to be afraid of his sibling. “Kurama, I bring news.”  
  
“Oh? News? Have you escaped your _urn_ , little brother? No….” Kurama’s eyes flashed with malevolence. “You are bound, just as I am, and there is no way you know anything worth my time.”  
  
“My jinchuuriki has knowledge of the future.” Isobu blurted it out when Kurama advanced, their teeth on full display.  
  
Kurama stopped, their tails swayed with thought. “An oracle? They sealed you into an oracle?”  
  
“I… guess?” Isobu was a lot less certain with Kurama than he was with his other siblings and mortals. “He knew who I was, even my name. He knew all of our names, and he talked to me about what’s going to happen.”  
  
“...Well, get on with it!” Kurama slammed their human-shape hand into the void-ground of the spirit world. “What’s so important you risked me eating you?”  
  
“Madara Uchiha figured out how to come back from the dead.”  
  
It took a second for Kurama to parse what Isobu had told them. Their brain was the size of a small lake -- that speed was remarkable. After that second, they belted out an agonized roar and slammed their hands into the ground. “Damnit! Damnit, damnit, damnit! And my jinchuuriki is near death -- he will come and enslave me again! Again!”  
  
“It gets worse.” Isobu began to relax as Kurama went longer without an overt threat toward him.  
  
Kurama’s tails puffed out in rage. “Worse?!”  
  
“Worse.” He watched his sibling rampage through the void at the outrage, until the spirit of karma was calmed down enough to hear the worse news. “Madara has figured out how to summon the corpse of the ten-tails back to Earth. He’s going to seal us inside it, starting with Shukaku.”  
  
Kurama’s dramatics stopped all of a sudden. Their tails coiled around like agitated snakes. After a moment of processing, Kurama sat back on their haunches with a contemplative expression. “We have to make a plan,” they said, calm and neutral for the first time in generations.  
  
“My jinchuuriki told me that if I go down to the ocean depths when he dies, it’ll stall their plans out. I’ve told Chomei to go high into the sky when she is free… if she gets free.”  
  
“Shukaku and Matatabi…?”  
  
“They think they’re too tightly bound to get free in time.” Isobu hung his head. “They’ve resolved to make Madara’s henchmen pay a steep price in blood to capture them.”  
  
Kurama smiled, faint as it was. Then their expression neutralized again. “How do we defeat Madara, then?”  
  
“I don’t know. My jinchuuriki hasn’t foreseen that yet.”  
  
“Typical humans,” the fox growled. “We’ll need to meet more regularly, to discuss how to best deal with this. Saiken is free, yes?”  
  
“Saiken remains with his jinchuuriki, but he can leave when the monk dies.” Isobu recoiled suddenly when Kurama’s old temper returned for a moment and he was in the turtle’s face with a snarl.  
  
“If he _can_ leave, why does he _choose_ to stay in his jail cell?”  
  
“Y-you should ask him yourself, Kurama. But… I’m getting the same kinda vibe with my jinchuuriki that Saiken gets from his.”  
  
Kurama squinted. “Vibe?”  
  
“A-a modern colloquialism. My jinchuuriki… he asked me to teach him.” Isobu felt like when they were small, and he could gush over every small thing he’d found in the ocean again. “He treats me with respect. He does what I ask, and he’s never demanded anything from me. He warned me that the seal I was in was a trap.”  
  
“You should all know by now that humans _cannot_ be trusted.” Kurama’s tails thrashed with rage. “Am I the only sane one among all you?!”  
  
Isobu didn’t respond right away. He’d said what he’d needed to, and his job was done. He didn’t want to confront Kurama on the issue of humans as a whole -- Kurama still hurt from repeated betrayals. But Isobu didn’t have any similar experiences. He turned away from Kurama and began to return to his dominion. “I have to go back to my jinchuuriki, and I’ll let you know if he finds out anything else.”  
  
“What has this human done to shake loose what you know in your heart to be true?!”  
  
Isobu turned, before he faded away. “He told me that one of your jinchuuriki would be the one to set us free, even if we failed to avert catastrophe. There is hope, even for you.” And then he was gone, he left Kurama to rage in the spirit world and returned to his dominion.  
  
\--  
  
Chunin Kanzaki.  
  
With the help of Raiga-sensei’s ant summons, restoring and modernizing Fujioka Castle progressed exponentially. The work they did made additional work easier. While she worked on the wood, and Haruki worked on the metal, Noburu worked on the stone. They finished the repairs to the castle at relatively the same time -- fixing the hole Raiga-sensei had punched in the wall to confront Yusuke-sensei. All within a week.  
  
“Good,” Raiga-sensei had told them when the work was completed. “You know how much work goes into our solid fortifications, and you have the skills to repair them collectively. Sayaka -- get the flares set up in the watchtower. Boys, the two of you will do chakra control exercises until sundown.” Their sensei smirked suddenly. “Be sure to claim a spot in the barracks, when the garrison arrives you’ll have to fight to keep it.”  
  
Sayaka frowned and glanced over at the boys, neither of whom looked pleased. She recalled how Raiga had said he would not respect indecisiveness, she steeled herself and spoke up. “Raiga-sensei, are we not returning to Kirigakure?”  
  
“Not unless we’re recalled.” Raiga crossed his arms and looked them over. “The Mizukage wanted me to get you all to the point where you can fight jounin and win -- that requires space, that requires lots of combat practice, and it requires us to be ready to reinforce the front line on a moment’s notice.”  
  
That didn’t seem correct, she believed. The Mizukage would probably want all his soldiers able to fight jounin, but that just wasn’t feasible. She’d been on the front lines, and she wasn’t at that point yet. No way were Noburu and Haruki going to get there being marginally closer to the front.  
  
“With respect, Raiga-sensei,” she said, resolved to be the leader, “that’s utter bullshit.”  
  
Raiga’s eyes widened, surprised.  
  
“You didn’t teach us much of anything except how to do manual labor,” Haruki groused. “If I’d wanted to be a plumber, I would have taken that route.”  
  
“For someone who hates indecisiveness, you haven’t been able to commit,” Noburu muttered with his arms crossed.  
  
Raiga wasn’t used to backtalk from _all three_ of them, so he floundered a moment before he spoke again. “Right now it’s best to be _near_ Kirigakure, but not actually _there_.” His voice was soft, perhaps he lied or bent the truth, but it sounded convincing. “The front line on Ouza is collapsing. The Mizukage’s ordered all forces to fall back to Nagi.” He arched a brow. “Looked at a map recently? How do you think that changes the rebel’s tactics?”  
  
Sayaka had actually looked at a map recently. She moved the pieces in her head, and reflected what she knew about the rebels from Fujioka’s damage. “With Ouza in their possession again, they could begin raiding the Water Country heartland islands,” she said, horrified. “Or they could launch a naval attack on the capital.”  
  
“Except the sea gets turbulent in the winter,” Haruki added. “They can’t just go to any island without risking their own forces.”  
  
“All of the safe routes through the heartland islands come here first, to the south of the big island.” Raiga pointed outside. “Where Nadeshiko can spot them if we can’t. Then, with enough water release users, we can capsize a fleet.”  
  
“Unless they’ve gotten some of those Sora flyers with the laser beams attached,” Noburu commented. “Then y’all’s fucked.” This caused a minor incident with his sensei and team  
  
“Wait, Sora had _what_ \-- “  
  
“How do you know about that, _that’s classified_ \-- “  
  
“You would be _just as fucked_ as us, thrall -- “  
  
Until everyone agreed that it was best if they left the speculation for another day. Noburu, with several goose-eggs on his head from Raiga-sensei remained quiet while the Swordsman reaffirmed his orders. Sayaka would set up the flares, the boys would work on chakra control. Later on, she found herself shopping for the most ideal place in the chunin barracks. It’d be a lot easier for her to guard her spot than the boys -- she knew how to lay down three-tier traps and only maim the victim.  
  
“Sayaka?” Noburu’s voice called from outside the barracks. “I’m not allowed inside, so could I ask you some questions through the door?”  
  
“I’ll allow it,” she called back and continued to lay her traps. “Ask your question.”  
  
“So, I know the hand sign for a justu, and I know the jutsu’s name. How do I figure out the fiddly-bits to make the jutsu actually _work_?”  
  
She stopped in the process of laying a shrapnel mine under the floorboards to look quizzically at the paper door. “Um. The hand signs are usually the ‘fiddly bits’. Is it a genjutsu? Medical ninjutsu?”  
  
“No, it’s just a solid clone jutsu.”  
  
“Then you just need the chakra control not to kill yourself, some of the element it’s made of, and you’re good.” She stopped after she’d armed a line and quickly shouted over her shoulder. “And the ice-clone jutsu and snow-clone jutsu are totally different things! You can’t use one if you have the other to work with!” She’d watched a Yuki clan kid get gutted for that mistake. The differences between snow and ice weren’t mere technicalities to be shrugged off.  
  
“I know, I know,” Noburu said as his voice grew distant.  
  
She continued to trap her precious spot for a moment longer before she stopped and seriously looked at the myriad tools of death and dismemberment arrayed before her. “I should be out there to supervise,” she said and set down her flesh-eating scarab jar. No one was stupid enough to mess with flesh-eating scarabs, so she quickly made her way outside and saw Noburu in the castle courtyard. That surprised her, she expected him to be on the way to run down to the lake to practice a water clone.  
  
He stood in place with an odd hand sign she’d never seen before, clearly in the chakra kneading process. Suddenly, he seemed to get it and shouted out: “Shadow clone jutsu!”  
  
There was a puff of smoke, and a second Noburu stood beside him.  
Sayaka blinked once, twice, three times. Then she walked over on autopilot to investigate what the hell she’d seen.  
  
Both Noburus quickly fell over, sweating heavily and out of breath. “Okay, so,” one Noburu said to the other. “Still… not there yet.”  
  
“But,” the second said, and held up a finger. “We’re getting there.” He tried to stand and fell over on his back. “Oh, the world’s spinning. This was a terrible idea.”  
  
“Noburu,” Sayaka said in a moment of calm before she exploded. “The fuck?!”  
  
“Oh hey Sayaka,” the two said in sync. “Could you… be a pal and knife him?” The first Noburu said and gestured at the second. “I kinda need my chakra back before I go into shock.”  
  
“Screw you,” the second Noburu panted. “He’s the clone, knife him.”  
  
Sayaka sighed and drew her ninjato. “You have got _so much_ ,” she emphasized the words with a sharp stab into the clone, “explaining to do.” In a puff of smoke, it vanished and Noburu began to visibly improve. “See, this? All of this? Is not how clones work. You broke the rules with clones. How?” She sheathed her sword and put one hand on her hip and counted off on her fingers with the other. “You’re not supposed to get the chakra _back_ from a clone. And they require an element to be solid. And they don’t act like they’re chakra exhausted!”  
  
Noburu was back to his old self in seconds. Literally, right before her eyes. “Okay. Okay, I can explain.” He stood up and brushed the snow off his clothes. “I saw the jinchuuriki of the nine-tailed fox spirit make like five thousand of these all at once, and figured I could make _one_.” He stumbled a bit and leaned on the wall to remain upright. “As it turns out, I _can_ , but it’s a _bad idea_.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Oh well. Maybe next week.”  
  
Sayaka’s brain stalled out as she tried to parse what she’d heard. “Um. I can’t tell if you’re serious, or if you’ve got dementia.”  
  
“In the land of the blind, the one man who can see is called mad.” He looked up to her with a smirk. “I happen to know for a fact that there is a version which can explode, and a version which duplicates shuriken. Think we can use those for your traps?”  
  
Sayaka’s brain, still stalled, took a moment to process that before she narrowed her eyes at the boy. “We could. But until we can actually do that jutsu without _killing ourselves_ , it’s a bad idea. Also -- we’d need to reverse-engineer jutsu, which is like,” she gestured as if toward something huge, “a tall fucking order for a chunin and a _fresh genin_.”  
  
“Eh, this is wartime. If a filler villain like Raiga qualifies as jounin, we’ll make the grade in no time at all.”  
  
\--  
  
Director Ruan.  
  
It was always a tough day when she had to tell her trainees they’d been selected to go to the front lines. She’d had people beg her to reconsider, she’d been offered bribes, she’d had threats levied. But it didn’t matter. The decision was out of her hands. Once the Mizukage approved her recommendations, there was nothing she could do -- it was his orders.  
  
With the fall back order in place, Nagi and Nadeshiko were the only colonies between the rebels and the Water Country heartland islands. Wounded soldiers and shinobi would need medical attention, so almost all of her trainees had been cleared for field deployment. There was nothing she could do -- it was the Mizukage’s orders. It was war, they needed medics on the front. There was nothing she could do.  
  
To distract herself from the poor soon-to-be-dead young men and women she’d sent off to war, she laid out several scrolls she’d been allowed to use for the development of the seal of hooks. She’d been one of twelve sealers to work on the seal of hooks, but of those twelve she was the only one still alive. It all fell on her to find out how to improve the seal for use on the six-tailed slug once it was recovered.  
  
If it was recovered.  
  
While she looked over the notes of dead men and women, she wondered what the history books would say about this period of Kiri’s story. Were they correct in _assuming_ victory and throwing soldiers at the enemy in waves rather than employ actual _tactics_? Would the fact that Kiri’s shinobi had standing orders to kill any intel or medical nins who were at risk of capture, on top of Kiri’s brutal hierarchy, spell their defeat?  
  
Would she be remembered as a coward? Would she be remembered at all?  
  
Her eyes drifted to the photo of her fiance, Isshin, and her hands began to shake. It had all happened so fast -- a bubble, a pop, and then Isshin melted right in front of her. Maybe Tsunade of the Leaf knew how to save a man from acid that ate him down to nothing in seconds, but Suzume didn’t.  
  
No one remembered Isshin anymore. Everyone they’d worked with was dead. Everyone who’d come to their parties, or wished them well was dead. Swallowed by the war. As the years of war raged, Kiri became more and more a ghost town. If she went to the front, she’d just be another tombstone in a week’s time. In the hospital, she’d helped make the seal -- the future template for _all_ jinchuuriki of all nations. Still, someone had to go to the front. Someone had to fight the rebels. Someone had to be melted to nothing in seconds while their loved ones watched in horror. Someone had to be completely forgotten as everyone who knew them died.  
  
It had to be someone -- she just didn’t want it to be her.  
  
The design choices of the seal of hooks made a bit more sense as she contemplated it. The seal had been ready for months -- but they didn’t move forward with a plan to seal the bijuu with it until the foot caste conscription order came. It had to be someone, they just hadn’t wanted it to be one of them.  
  
She reviewed the notes on the seal and narrowed her eyes. “We need to include some form of leash in future versions,” she muttered. With a deft hand she reached for a scroll taken from Uzushiogakure during its destruction. “We might not be able to integrate it into the seal of hooks, but this should be a good starting position.” She opened the scroll and looked within its contents, not for the first time. Two hooked lines, the barbs arranged toward the middle and inverse each other, with a manji hooked on the ends between them. A commission Uzushiogakure had done for a noble family in Konoha in antiquity. “Hmm, it uses pain in the same way the seal of hooks does… perhaps we could bind it to a different stimulus -- paralysis perhaps?”  
  
She’d need to practice the modified seal on people to get results she could take to the Mizukage. Or else he’d have it tested on her. Someone would need to be the lab rat, she just didn’t want it to be her.  
  
\---  
  
Cast:  
  
Kurama: One of the nine bijuu, great spirits of pure chakra which once wandered the world. Kurama is intrinsically tied with the world of humans, for they can perceive emotions with a sixth sense unique to the bijuu. They have been known to despise strong negative emotions, and malice in particular, and mete out terrible punishments to destroy it where it begins to fester. Due to this, they have earned a reputation as the spirit of karma, or justice. No wonder shinobi hate them so terribly. Bijuu.


	8. Boil Over

**Ch 8: Boil Over**  
  
\---  
  
Jounin Kurosuki.  
  
With the Kiba swords drawn, Raiga arced lightning between them in a threat display. Surrounding him were his students, each given instructions to come at him with their best. Raiga expected them to badly disappoint him.  
  
Haruki started off the attack. “Boil release!” He declared as he formed hand signs. “Sauna fog bank!” The boy breathed deep and let loose a torrent of steam from his mouth at Raiga. In springtime, such a jutsu would be a novelty spin on the hidden mist jutsu, with the added effect of causing a victim to tire more quickly. In winter, such a mass of boiling water would freeze quickly, and ice over enemies in a layer of painful frost.  
  
Raiga stood his ground and swung the Kiba blades and parted the cloud around him as lightning met steam. A crunch and whistle signaled to Raiga a projectile, so he swung his swords to deflect it. Coral shards peppered his face as he broke Noburu’s attack. A flurry of fireballs from Haruki and the occasional spear from Noburu actually had Raiga use both his hands, one for each student’s attack.  
  
As he split another coral spear, he frowned at Sayaka. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t thrown a knife or shuriken, she hadn’t used any explosive traps. To test a theory, Raiga moved out of the way of one of Haruki’s phoenix-flower fireballs and let the attack go for Sayaka. She didn’t move, and it became clear why -- the fireball passed through her like light through a window.  
  
 _A clone…_ , Raiga thought. She’d had to have moved quick to get the clone in her place. Motion caught his eye and he had only a moment to process what looked to be a figure of pure white among the snow before he was attacked again. _Clever girl_. He fought the urge to smirk. _But not clever enough!_ Raiga crossed his blades and dragged them across each other. “Lightning cutter!” When his blades swung free, a crescent of lightning spread out from the apogee of their swing. The projectile lightning flew out at what he thought was Sayaka, only for it to also pass through her. _Another clone!_  
  
The lightning cutter dispersed the intangible clone, just in time for Raiga to be attacked once more by a cloud of rapid-freezing steam and a coral spear. He parted the steam and deflected the spear, and looked for Sayaka among the snow. To his surprise, he saw a figure in the steam a moment before a ninjato took off his arm. Sayaka looked immensely pleased with herself as the sensei she had fought broke down into a mound of snow -- a replacement jutsu.  
  
From atop the wall, Raiga clapped. “Very good, you got me to abandon my position.” He dug the Kiba swords out of the wood and sheathed then before he jumped down. Haruki and Noburu looked pretty worn out, but Sayaka looked pleased with herself. “That was a good strategy, using Haruki’s steam as cover.” Raiga’s pleasant expression slipped when he glanced at the chubby genin. “You didn’t contribute much to that, though.”  
  
“I kept one of your hands busy,” Noburu said with a smirk. “Even you can’t say you do that on the regular.”  
  
Once Noburu had been punched as hard as Raiga possibly could without inducing brain damage, Raiga returned to his monologue. “It was almost a solid team-wide effort. With practice you’ll have the teamwork necessary to at least fight back if a jounin comes after you. When the garrison arrives, we’ll be able to do more variations on this training exercise.” He clapped his hands, to indicate training was over. “Sayaka, I want you in the office with me to review the latest intel. Haruki, down to the lake to practice water clones. Noburu,” he outright glared. “Run laps around the castle. No food until you’ve done one hundred.”  
  
“Fuck you too, binkie-boy.”  
  
“Two hundred.”  
  
\--  
  
Mother Jiang.  
  
When opportunity visits, make it feel at home. Akami had been on her way back from the graveyard when she got the news -- a job opening in the Mizukage’s household, for a chef! Normally she would not be so bold but perhaps, if she could earn the Mizukage’s approval, her son would not be sent off to die wastefully. Maybe he’d be treated well.  
  
So far the Mizukage had been firm, but fair. He’d asked for good food, she’d provided. She’d had no complaints against her, and he seemed to enjoy the dishes she took extra time to make visually appealing on top of delicious. Water Country chefs didn’t typically worry about plating, but her tutors in Honey Country had been adamant about it. Those were good memories, her time in Honey Country.  
  
When she could forget her caste, she could forget Kirigakure, and she could just be _Akami_ for the first time in her life. For the only time in her life.  
  
Maybe she should have stayed in Honey Country, and not come back to Kiri.  
  
But then she wouldn’t have met Jirou, and she wouldn’t have had Noburu.  
  
“You were married, yes?” The Mizukage asked her out of the blue while his breakfast was prepared. “Divorce?”  
  
The chef had made folded eggs thousands of times, she only needed to keep an eye out on potentially flavor-damaging issues. A little conversation wouldn’t hurt. “Yes to the first question, Lord Mizukage, no to the second.” She had learned not to volunteer information unless he showed interest.  
  
“Tell me about my jinchuuriki’s father.”  
  
She tried desperately not to break the spoon in her hand when he refered to _her son_ as his _property_. The spoon was not worth being fired over. Possibly literally fired. “Jirou was a foreigner to Kiri,” she started, careful. “He didn’t know how things worked, and he upset some people of higher caste with impertinence. My friends and I took him in, and showed him how things were done.”  
  
“How dutiful of you. ‘Jirou’ is not of the same origin as ‘Jiang’, I notice.”  
  
The eggs were finished, so she just had to season them and chop spring onions for the dish. “He took on my last name when we were married, Lord Mizukage. He was originally from Wave Country, and his father came from Fire Country -- and you know how bizarre those people can be.”  
  
The Mizukage chuckled. “Quite so. Where did his mother come from? Uzu, I imagine?”  
  
Jirou had only ever answered that question once, drunk to deal with the pain and half-mad from the horn-like growths on his head. The pale-skinned man had pointed up, at the crescent moon that night as his answer. “Moon Country, actually. She’d traveled quite a long way!”  
  
“Mmm. Our records indicate he visited the hospital numerous times.” The Mizukage sipped his tea while Akami served his food. “Did he have a chronic condition?”  
  
“The doctor said it was the precursor to a kekkei genkai.” She carefully served the folded eggs with spring onion and added the rice side dish which the Mizukage insisted be served with everything. “It wasn’t likely that our children would manifest it, but that our descendants might.” She bowed to the Mizukage when the food was served. “Eat well, Lord Mizukage.”  
  
“Thank you, Akami. I may have guests by later today, set aside some tea leaves for when they arrive.”  
  
“Of course, Lord Mizukage.” She covered the mobile cooking station used to prepare the Mizukage’s meals right in front of him, and began to walk away.  
  
“Before you go….” He waited for her to turn around and bow to him again. “Where is Jirou now?”  
  
“He left for Sea Country three years ago, and we haven’t heard from him since.” That was dangerous to admit. If the Mizukage wished, he could brand Jirou a rebel by proxy. Then… she couldn’t actually imagine what worse fate the Mizukage could inflict upon her son than what had already been done.  
  
“I see. Thank you. You may go.”  
  
Thankful that she hadn’t been lit on fire for anything she admitted, Akami left. If she was lucky, she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions.  
  
\--  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke.  
  
He sat on the cliffs of Ouza, and looked across the sea to Nagi. Behind him, far in the distance, his forces mopped up the last of the loyalist forces and gave medical treatment to the turncoats. Those who wished to join them when the Mizukage abandoned them were spared, as always. They had recently instituted a conscription drive of the foot caste in the heartlands -- all the children had been stolen away to be made into genin, even if they didn’t have the chakra necessary to be ninjas.  
  
Kousuke’s mere presence on the cliffs was enough to keep the loyalist forces from destroying the bridge between Nagi and Ouza. The two islands were close enough that anyone with a spyglass could see him, and any sensor could feel him. The very idea that he would come across the sea and attack them if they made a move on the bridge kept them away. They were more afraid of him than of the Mizukage.  
  
Perhaps they were afraid of him because the Mizukage was afraid of him.  
  
 _It slips out that I’ve hired ninja from Konoha, and he abandons a war of attrition he would have won,_ Kousuke thought as he watched shinobi paralyzed with indecision. _If I wanted to, I could ignore Nagi and focus on Nadeshiko. His army would be isolated, and his precious heartland exposed. Does he even realize how much his strategy reeks of fear?_  
  
Kousuke hadn’t even heard back from his friends in the Moon and Sea Country governments about how many ninja they were able to hire. Or even what the terms of the contract were. Tsuneo had been right -- the mere mention of foreign involvement put the loyalists into a panic.  
  
 _You tried to hide away from the mainland and make yourself an empire_ , Kousuke thought to the idea of Water Country. _But you have failed, and we will lay your shame out for the mainland to see -- and allow them to laugh at you._  
  
Footsteps on the snow grew louder -- someone approached him. Someone new, Kousuke had never felt their chakra before. “May I sit with you, rebel leader?”  
  
Kousuke patted the snow next to him. “Always.”  
  
The man who sat down wore a black jumpsuit, with mesh underneath, and rather unseasonably thin sandals. Dark-skinned, brown hair, with small eyes that held a lot of intelligence, with queer markings below his eyes. “You’re… not worried I aim to assassinate you? To end the rebellion right here and now?”  
  
“I can’t control you. I can’t decide what you try to do.” Kousuke adjusted his hat as the snowfall shifted with the wind. It let him see the man more clearly. Powerful muscles, a heightened awareness of muscle movements -- shinobi. “Living in fear and paranoia isn’t worth it. If I fear assassination, it doesn’t make it any more or less likely to happen. It would only make me miserable.”  
  
“Some would say,” the shinobi replied with a look of disapproval, “that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”  
  
“A cure to what? My death? Or the end of the rebellion?” Kousuke looked out, across the sea, and saw that the loyalist shinobi had fallen back while he was distracted. “If I die, I’m a martyr for the cause. I fought back against tyranny and won. I proved that people don’t need to be ninja to fight back and win.” He looked over at the shinobi, and smiled. “The rebellion is at a point where they don’t need me to secure victory for them.”  
  
The shinobi smiled back. “I don’t think you’ll enjoy what happens after they realize that. But, as you are my client -- I will do as you have bid me. Though, I felt we should meet before I get to work.” The shinobi stood and patted the snow off his clothes. “Do you have any special requests before I get to work?”  
  
Neither Saiken or Kousuke sensed a lie in the man, which lent his words credibility. It became clear to whom Kousuke spoke. A Hidden Leaf ninja -- presumably either the commander of a unit, or one of their great names. They likely would not meet again to discuss special conditions, as Kousuke didn’t know the terms of what he’d been hired for. But the snow would fall up before Kousuke admitted that to him. “To the north of here is Fujioka Castle, on the southernmost point of the big island.” He pointed there, at the stretch of sea that separated the two islands. “It is the meeting point of all the safe routes through the islands this time of year. The castle is where someone important to me is being kept. A boy with patches of skin of different colors. Lay waste to the castle, destroy its garrison if you wish, but bring him to me.” Kousuke allowed his eyes to narrow slightly. “Alive would be preferable.”  
  
“As you wish, my good client.” And then he was gone.  
  
\--  
  
Genin Fujimoto.

  
“Okay you need to stop with the sass, thrall,” Haruki proclaimed as he finally caught up to the chubby genin. How such a hefty kid moved so fast, he’d never understand. “You’re not learning anything from Raiga-sensei, and you being the weak link is going to get us killed!”  
  
The chubby genin panted but did not slow down. “The kid who can’t bear the thought of his clothes not being cared for properly in wartime is lecturing me on weak links.”  
  
“If it’s not done exactly right, they’ll shrink!” Steam burst from the boy’s ears at the outrage.  
  
“And gods forbid your socks not fit right.”  
  
Haruki bit back the urge to flash fry his fellow genin and brought the conversation back on track. “You might be a thrall, but that doesn’t give you the excuse to be a load on the team!”  
  
“Excuse me,” Noburu growled and looked away from the path he’d trod a hundred plus times before, “which one of us tagged Sojiro-sensei with a spear? Was it you? Oh no, it was me -- so you can piss off with that!”  
  
“You have chakra reserves like a kid half your age!” Steam leaked out of his ears at being talked to that way. “Your control is getting better -- but it’s not enough! You agitate Raiga-sensei so much he doesn’t teach you any jutsu, he doesn’t teach you how to use a sword, he doesn’t teach you anything! One of the Seven Swordsmen is your sensei, and you’re wasting the opportunity!”  
  
“I didn’t want to be a ninja at all, so of course my chakra reserves are low! But I’m getting more _every day_! My chakra control gets better _every day_!” The boy stopped and all but screamed in Haruki’s face. “While I’m busy getting better you’re mad that I’m not as far ahead as you! I don’t have a ninja clan who can teach me jutsu that Raiga-sensei won’t! I don’t have anyone who can buy me the stuff I need to be good at traps! And of course he’s not going to was time teaching me how to use a sword -- _I don’t own one!_ ”  
  
“Maybe he’d help you if -- “  
  
“If I tried being nice? If I became a good little bootlicker? Wait that doesn’t work, no one in this idiot country wears boots,” he muttered the last to himself, then shook his head. “Whatever. If the Mizukage wants us all at the point where we can then fight jounin, then he’s hurting himself in the long run.”  
  
“Because of you!” Haruki’s ears poured steam like a boiler release. “You’re hurting the whole team because you won’t shut up long enough to get better! You have a really useful coral kekkei genkai and you’re not -- “  
  
“That’s not what my kekkei genkai is! You idiots just keep assuming I’m talking out my ass about that and not asking!”  
  
“Because when we ask you say stupid stuff like ‘your mother’ as a response!”  
  
“Only to stupid questions!” Noburu sighed and resumed his laps, with Haruki in pursuit. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Raiga-sensei can’t teach me the skills I need to make my kekkei genkai useful, and that’s assuming it’s stable enough to _use_. Secondly, my personality isn’t a good match for his -- so he won’t teach me what he does know. I’ll teach myself what I can, you learn from him what you can, and we’ll try to have teamwork make up the difference.”  
  
Haruki processed his teammmate’s response, his ears spitting more and more steam as he grew angrier until he shouted. “Fine! If you’ve given up on Raiga-sensei teaching you anything -- I’ll teach you, then!” He stopped when Noburu paused in his laps again and crossed his arms. “I know fire jutsu, water jutsu, and I know chakra building exercises to get you up to speed. Sayaka knows tactics and has more taijutsu training than either of us. If you can tell me -- without being an _asshole_ \-- what your kekkei genkai is, maybe the two of us can work out something to help you use it.”  
  
Noburu narrowed his eyes at his teammate. “You’re eye caste. Why would you ever help me?”  
  
“Aside from the noble obligation we of the _eyes_ caste have to lead and watch over the lower castes? I really like not being murdered by rebels. You and Raiga-sensei’s inability to work together makes that more likely to happen.” Haruki’s ears stopped bleeding steam for the first time in minutes. He put one hand on his hip and snapped the other. “Now, chop-chop, let’s see it.”  
  
“We’re both about six years too young for that kind of talk.” While Haruki almost exploded in outrage, Noburu closed his eyes and made a sign like he was sculpting chakra. “Now, when you see this, you’re going to have questions. I don’t have the answers either, just know I’m fairly certain my dad escaped a lab somewhere in Fire Country.”  
  
“What -- why Fire Country specifically?”  
  
Noburu’s eyes were suddenly surrounded by swollen veins. When he opened them up, the brown eyes with vertical slits he’d just seen were gone, replaced with solid white disks with a barely perceptible pupil at the center.  
  
Haruki’s brain struggled to process what his eyes saw. He closed his eyes and rubbed them before he opened them again to make sure he hadn’t begun to hallucinate. “Oh,” he said, soft. “That’s… that’s why Fire Country specifically. Huh.”  
  
After a second, Noburu struggled not to smile and resisted the urge to laugh.  
  
“What’s so funny?”  
  
“Your wisdom teeth are going to grow in upside-down.”  
  
“ _Stop looking at my bones, pervert!_ ”  
  
\---  
  
Cast:  
  
Jirou Jiang: This information has been removed from the public record. Foot caste.


	9. The Odds

**Ch 9: The Odds**  
  
\---  
  
Chunin Kanzaki  
  
She was honestly surprised by how little sass Noburu or Haruki gave her when she agreed to help them work on their taijutsu. Considering how amateur their spars with each other were, she’d intended to broach the topic eventually -- but probably not before the garrison arrived and had medical nin on hand to fix them up. They met up in what had once been the Fujioka clan’s immaculate garden, but had become overgrown and unsightly since their destruction.  
  
“A lot of the work in taijutsu comes from repetition,” she told them as she showed them precursor exercises -- exercises which would help them build muscle before they moved on to optimized ones. “You have to work your muscles almost every day, and you have to practice the motions until you develop muscle memory. Kirigakure taijutsu focuses a lot on flexibility, so that’s where we’re going to start, training your flexibility until you can move like water.”  
  
Noburu nodded, but Haruki arched a brow. “If it’s all about flexibility,” he grunted while Sayaka corrected his stance, “how come you have muscles like that?”  
  
It wasn’t often that the boys saw her without her heavy jacket. She’d taken it off and just rocked her shirt and flak jacket to show off her guns. “I need muscles in my line of work, trap supplies and armor are heavy.” When she finished correcting Haruki, she flexed one arm to let the boys stare with envy. “All this strength doesn’t take away from my flexibility either, it just makes it more dangerous. And if you guys join a gym and work real hard, maybe your muscles will be a third this developed by the time you’re my age.”  
  
“C’mon Princess, we gotta work to catch up!” Noburu began his routine with gusto before Sayaka shook her finger at him. “Huh?”  
  
“Speed comes with _practice_ ,” she emphasized. “Right now focus on doing it right, doing it without pain, and doing it the same way every time.” She patted her fellow baldy on the head, and let him try again.  
  
When she turned away from the boys to start her own exercise routine, she saw Raiga-sensei with a sour expression on his face on the porch. He gestured her over, and she approached quietly. Together they walked out of the boy’s hearing range.  
  
“Sensei, I know you’re supposed to be handling our training,” she started but was stopped by Raiga who held a hand up.  
  
“That’s not what this is about,” Raiga-sensei said. “Keeping them busy is honestly for the best right now. You’re a chunin of the Hidden Mist, you’re entitled to this news.” Raiga crossed his arms and sighed. “We just got the numbers back on how much of the forces on Ouza survived to retreat to Nagi. The projections for the war have officially turned against us.”  
  
That thought hit her like a punch in the gut. It’d been in the back of her mind, the possibility of losing, but she never thought it’d actually happened. The Mizukage had been so strong, if it looked like they’d lose surely he’d take the field and sort it out…!  
  
“And word has begun to spread -- the rebels have hired Konoha ninja to support them. We’re confronted with a serious topic of discussion that I don’t think the boys are capable of treating with the gravity it requires.” The jounin Swordsman looked down at her and raised his eyebrow. “We’re on the losing side of this war, it looks like. Do we remain so, or do we jump ship?”  
  
“Is… are you being serious?” Her sensei had just proposed desertion with her. Her sensei had just proposed _treason_ with her. Her sensei had just _asked her if she wanted to rebel_. Sayaka’s heart pounded, she remembered how Raiga had been dispassionate about the treatment Sojiro and Yusuke-sensei’s families would get for playing at rebellion -- he’d asked her if she wanted to visit that on her family? “You can’t be serious.”  
  
“I can. I’m not Noburu.” Raiga’s face was neutral. “The side we’re on right now isn’t going to win. Are you prepared for what happens if we lose?”  
  
If they lost, then the rebels would kill them all. Kiri had been the instruments of the daimyo’s expansion -- they wouldn’t look kindly on the soldiers of their enemies. The village would burn.  
  
“Our oaths are to Kirigakure first and foremost.” Raiga leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “The Mizukage, Water Country, the daimyo -- those are all secondary. The First Mizukage envisioned a future where our leaders would betray the village as a whole for their own benefit.”  
  
Her breathing began to become ragged, she felt like she had to run, had to be somewhere else -- but there was nowhere to go. “What… what do we do?”  
  
“That’s a good question.” Raiga opened his eyes and looked at her -- he looked exhausted. “When you know you’ll lose the battle, you withdraw. When you know you’ll lose the war, you…?”  
  
“Surrender.” The very thought chilled her to the bone.  
  
“Indeed. Do you think we should surrender, and hope the rebels are merciful?”  
  
“I… Raiga-sensei, I’m not -- “  
  
“You are a chunin of the Hidden Mist.” Raiga’s tone was sharp, but not angry. “You are entrusted to lead missions, and make tactical decisions. If you don’t want to make a decision, turn in your flak jacket.”  
  
 _That’s not fair, I didn’t do anything wrong_ , she shouted in her head. But unwilling to let go of her success, she took a deep breath. “We should withdraw.”  
  
Raiga arched a brow. “Oh? You think we can still win if we fall back to Kirigakure?”  
  
“No. Kirigakure’s a ghost town -- we can’t defend it even with the home guard.” She reached for any and all justification she could, rather than renege on her position. She’d realized she’d misspoke the moment the word left her mouth, she’d meant surrender. But she remembered how Raiga-sensei had been in regards to indecision. Even if it was a bad decision, he’d want her to stick with it. “You’ve said it yourself -- Fujioka is a vital point of defense for us -- without it, Kirigakure won’t receive any warning if Nadeshiko is attacked. Or Nadeshiko could join the rebels -- I don’t know. This place is _going_ to be hit by the rebels. We need to make sure we’re not here when it does.”  
  
“I see.” Raiga offered no criticism or judgement. “You made a decision. Let’s see if you follow through when the enemy arrives.” With that done, the jounin turned and left with no further explanation.  
  
Any sense of security she’d had with Raiga-sensei had been utterly destroyed. With her heart still going a mile a minute in her chest, she went back to the boys to tell them to keep exercising on their own while she went and had a panic attack.  
  
Perhaps honesty wasn’t the best policy at that moment, but she didn’t feel like lying in any way except down with a pillow over her head.  
  
\--  
  
Third Mizukage  
  
It wasn’t often that Ryukotsusei had to be lectured. His teacher had praised him for learning quickly. His teammate, the Second Mizukage, had criticized him for being a know-it-all. And Ryukotsusei had been Mizukage for so long, no one had the chance to talk down to him. With that in mind, he found it surprisingly difficult to not snap Takashi’s neck when the daimyo’s man relayed their lord’s displeasure.  
  
“Unbelievable! The mere mention of foreign intervention drives our forces into disarray? The very idea of facing competent soldiers, and you have our troops run?! The daimyo is displeased, borderline infuriated. His heartland is at risk -- and your shinobi didn’t even have the sense to destroy the bridge between Nagi and Ouza!” The daimyo’s man fanned himself as he paced in the Mizukage’s office. “And -- now our generals predict a loss?! They advise us to sue for peace?! To quote the daimyo -- the word ‘failure’ doesn’t begin to describe your handling of this affair!”  
  
One of those generals, a member of the daimyo’s regular armed forces, had been executed for saying such things. It had surprised everyone when a second repeated it immediately after.  
  
Ryukotsusei scoffed. “They are an army of foot caste and turncoats. If need be, I will take the field myself and lay them to waste.”  
  
Takashi fanned himself quickly and scowled. “The daimyo is not convinced of that. He is not convinced you’re up to the task of retaking his wayward colonies. There is talk in the capital about the need for a Fourth Mizukage.”  
  
A sudden flood of killing intent flooded the room. The walls and windows frosted over rapidly. Takashi’s breaths came out in puffs, as if he’d walked into a freezer. Ice cracked as it grew outward from Ryukotsusei’s hands on the desk.  
  
“Is that so?” The Third’s voice was glacial in its coldness. “Perhaps I should do as the generals advise, and sue for peace. After all -- it isn’t _my_ head they aim to mount on a pike. Perhaps you should remind the daimyo of whom the rebels are rebelling _against_.”  
  
With the Mizukage’s office colder than Snow Country, Takashi began to shiver quickly and violently. “N-n-now, Lord Mizukage, this threat display is n-not going to help your case.” Despite the cold, the daimyo’s man remained defiant. “This is-s not about your s-trength, but about your ability to lead. Your shinobi hate you, and you’ve isolated your army with those foolish orders to fall back to Nagi. You’ve never been on the defens-ive before -- and it s-shows.”  
  
Ryukotsusei thought he’d gone mad for a second. He’d released killing intent and turned his office into a freezer, and the toady continued to talk back. People had _died_ for less in his village. He moved to stand and found that he stumbled when he did. The Mizukage glanced at the leg which had given him issue, and noticed how he had to put actual effort into freezing the room. Before he could do more with less effort, to impose his will.  
  
He caught his reflection in the frosted window and saw again how old he’d become. How his hair had greyed and the wrinkles on his face deepened. He’d never felt weakened by age before that moment.  
  
But like hell he’d let the civilian see him afraid of his mortality for the first time in decades. “If the daimyo is uncertain about my ability to lead, I will go and take the fight to Kousuke myself.”  
  
The ice around them began to melt, and Takashi raised his eyebrow. “No,” he said, soft. “I don’t think you will. I think the daimyo is correct -- and it is time you were replaced.” He turned to leave. “I will send word to him, and we will compile a list of likely candida -- “  
  
Ice took shape in Ryukotsusei’s hand and a frozen kunai landed in Takashi’s head, in the brainstem. The corpse hit the ground and spasmed while Ryukotsusei calmly walked to his door. He opened it and stepped out into his lobby, where Takashi’s secretary and guards waited for him to emerge.  
  
His form flickered, and he appeared at the door to his lobby as the bodies began to fall, a spike of ice in their necks.  
  
“Have someone clean this up,” he casually told his ANBU captain as he left to prepare to go to war again.  
  
He would not be the first Mizukage to be removed from his role. He’d built the village up too high to be brought low due to incompetence.  
  
\--  
  
Third Hokage.  
  
“I daresay we’re watching Kirigakure and Water Country as a whole break apart,” one of Hiruzen’s ANBU escorts, Pig, commented as they looked over intel they had intercepted. “Even their own generals say they’re likely to lose, and they should sue for peace.”  
  
They sailed through Water Country’s wintery sea on a fishing boat ‘kindly donated’ by a loyalist fisherman. While another ANBU, Swan, crewed the boat via shadow clones, the others and Hiruzen put together a plan in the hold.  
  
“Do you want to wait before they actually sue for peace, and assassinate the daimyo then?” Owl, the medical ninja of the unit, spoke up.  
  
Hiruzen looked over the collected intel while he smoked on his pipe and fought back a smile. The gods smiled on revenge -- both the rebel’s, and his own. “If we leave them too long, they might recover. Ryukotsusei might take the field, and we don’t know how the monk’s skills bear out against the Two-Faced Dragon’s. Kiri seems like it’s on the precipice of outright dissolution, with their army out of position.” He took a long drag on his pipe and let out a cloud of smoke through his nose. “Giving them a helpful push seems in order.”  
  
“If we hit Fujioka, then we’ll run the risk of being sandwiched between their garrison and any reinforcements Nadeshiko is able to send,” Pig added. They pointed to the village of kunoichi on the map. “Their admittance to the empire Water Country tried to grow is tenuous, they were able to remain autonomous to a degree.”  
  
“On the other hand -- only one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist is stationed in Kirigakure’s home defense forces.” Owl tapped a person-of-interest file they’d acquired. “And they’re moving a sizable portion of that defense force to Fujioka to respond to any attacks by the rebels.”  
  
“If something were to happen to Fujioka…,” Hiruzen mused. “Ryukotsusei likely wouldn’t be able to leave Kirigakure even if he wanted to. He’d face a mutiny among his jounin.”  
  
“All twelve of them.”  
  
That made the Hokage chuckle. “Now now,” he waved his hand at the ANBU in a chiding manner. “Ryukotsusei was once a terrifying tactician, and is still likely to be a deadly opponent in his old age. Let’s be respectful and say he has thirteen.” They had a good laugh for a moment, then Hiruzen put on his serious face. He bent over and looked over the map with a critical eye. “If we attack the castle, and Ryukotsusei is in motion, he’ll divert to it because losing _that_ will be his death knell.”  
  
“...If he _is_ on the move,” Pig started, then tapped Kirigakure on the map. “We could ambush him in transit. His bodyguard detail is probably equal or less in number to us, and they’ve been on edge from the war for years at this point.” Pig traced his finger across probable routes, given what they knew of the terrain. “And Ryukotsusei might be a deadly enemy, but he’s a ninjutsu specialist -- which feels the effects of age the most keenly.”  
  
“Fighting and killing him in the woods so his corpse would be eaten by wolves would be so utterly disrespectful,” Hiruzen chided Pig playfully. “We have to do it, now. You’re supposed to save your brilliant ideas for the end, Pig.”  
  
The ANBU bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Lord Hokage, I will allow less brilliant ideas to be fielded first next time.”  
  
“See that you do,” Hiruzen once more put on his serious face and tapped the big island on the map. “We go ashore, and we watch for Ryukotsusei’s approach. If he doesn’t leave his village, we move onto objective A.” He tapped the other side of the big island, where the capital city was. And the daimyo.  
  
\--  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke.  
  
Let it never be said that the Hidden Mist lacked in cruelty. After their retreat was certain, and the bridge secured on the Ouza side, a quick damage report was drawn up for Ouza as a whole. It didn’t turn out well.  
  
Kousuke sat cross-legged in the command tent while he flipped through pages of damage, surrounded by his lieutenants and allies. Every page was a new horror. Finally, he came to the terrible conclusion.  
  
Solemn, he flipped the report closed and laid it on his lap. “The daimyo of Alcohol Country is dead, as are all the noble families which lived in or around the capital.” One of his lieutenants, who came from Ouza and Nagi, punched one of the tent’s posts in his rage. “Sake Town, capital city of Alcohol Country, has been destroyed by paper bombs. The loyalists burned everything as they retreated -- every farm they could find, every village they saw. Nagi will undoubtedly suffer the same fate when they withdraw to Nadeshiko on our next push.”  
  
Kousuke opened the report to look at the cadavers they’d found. Slit throats, mostly. He committed their faces to memory, so that he could pray for them to find peace in the next life.  
  
“Without the daimyo and the noble families in the capital… without the capital itself...,” Tsuneo, their record keeper, announced with a shaking hand on his pencil. “And without the northern farms, it is projected that we will see widespread famine as winter gets worse.”  
  
Shabadaba, a short and portly man with the official sash of Moon Country diplomats, stood from his seat to address the group. “My King has commanded me to order our ships to go out and purchase food from anywhere and everywhere it is available to sell. He fears that the south of Ouza will turn to piracy as they have done every time winter is harsh.”  
  
Kousuke’s Alcohol Country lieutenant had to be restrained, lest he attack Shabadaba for such a harsh jab so soon after bad news. Shabadaba clearly wished he hadn’t been asked to serve as Moon Country’s envoy, though it didn’t justify his behavior.  
  
The monk narrowed his eyes at the man, and the Moon Country diplomat bowed his head. “We appreciate the help, Lord Shabadaba. Moon Country has my deepest gratitude for however it can ease Ouza’s suffering.”  
  
“Sea Country is renowned for their gracious manners, and you exemplify it Kousuke.” Shabadaba grinned at the monk’s irate lieutenant, and sat down.  
  
“That brings me to an uncomfortable line of thinking.” Kousuke folded his staff over the top of the report and began to count off on his fingers. “Alcohol Country’s daimyo is dead -- and everyone who could replace him is dead. Water Country’s daimyo will soon be dead, as will anyone who can replace him -- thanks to our friend’s ninja hire.”  
  
Shabadaba grinned wide, slightly unhinged.  
  
“When this is done, there will be a power vacuum. Nadeshiko never had ambitions to rule beyond their island, and if we leave so many people in a vacuum with no government to look after them this region will rapidly devolve back into the chaos of the warring states.” He turned to look at Tsuneo. “Do any of the surrounding daimyo have blood relations to the Water of Alcohol daimyo?”  
  
The secretary tapped his pencil against his face as he considered. “Well… the current King of Moon Country was cousins with the Alcohol Country daimyo. It’s… flimsy, but the people might accept being ruled by a branch of the Tsuki clan.”  
  
“Prince Michiru is currently only two years old,” Shabadaba informed the group. “And the King has no siblings. Though perhaps if one of the surviving noble families have a daughter of appropriate age…?” The diplomat raised one fine eyebrow.  
  
Kousuke nodded, his face grim.  
  
Shabadaba grinned like a hungry crocodile. “Then I will sing this song to my King, and we’ll see what can be done.”  
  
The monk felt dirty for what he’d just done. But the cruelty of Kiri had forced their hand. “That brings us back to Water Country….”  
  
“And unfortunately,” Tsuneo muttered, clearly uncomfortable, “the closest relationship that… _boy_ had was with Whirlpool Country.”  
  
Silence stretched out between the lieutenants, as they waited for Kousuke to speak. The monk closed his eyes in thought. The citizens of Water Country were just as much a victim of Kirigakure and the daimyo as anyone -- they would bear a stigma for generations for what their leaders had done. Leaving them to the mercies of a cruel monster would undo the call to justice which had begun the rebellion. As a jinchuuriki, he couldn’t rule himself.  
  
“Perhaps… we could try to set up a marriage between the daimyo of Honey Country,” Kousuke said as he envisioned a map in his head, “and the daimyo of Noodle Country. They lie on either side of Water Country, and they could conjoin their lands with Water Country as a gift.”  
  
He didn’t like it, even as his lieutenants moved to examine maps, and write letters of courtly quality to two foreign countries. He didn’t like treating land and the people who lived there like possessions to be given away. But the relentless cruelty of his enemies made no other solution viable.  
  
The one saving grace is that everyone agreed what they would call the resulting nation out of Noodles, Honey, and Water: Soup Country.  
  
\---  
  
To clarify, Nagi and Ouza Islands together make Alcohol Country. [Here](https://i.stack.imgur.com/VPF6k.jpg) is a map which I’ve been using for the story, for y’all’s convenience.  
  
Also, yes, Ryukotsusei is of the Yuki clan.


	10. Kage Match

**Ch 10: Kage Match**

\---

Genin Fujimoto.

A couple days after Haruki and Sayaka started teaching Noburu directly, the garrison arrived. Dozens of chunin and genin, with a pair of jounin commanders all came to man the castle and keep a watch for rebels.

Things became way more noisy, way more crowded, and a lot more _familiar_ than Haruki was comfortable with. He hadn’t anticipated needing to fight for the use of the laundry machines.

“Princess,” Noburu said from his bunk below Haruki’s, “you can literally turn water into a boiling cloud of steamy death. If folks make comments about your wardrobe, murder _is_ an option.”

Haruki leaned over the edge of his bunk to look down at Noburu. “You need to be at least chunin to murder people for disrespecting you, you know that.”

Noburu didn’t look up from his book. ‘An idiot’s guide to medical ninjutsu’, brought with the garrison’s supplies. “Not if they don’t find the body. I know how to handle that -- just bring the corpses to me, Princess.”

“That’s so thoughtful.” Haruki’s tone was sardonic. “But I can dispose of bodies on my own, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.” Noburu flipped the page on his book. “I guess all that time in medical families paid off -- all I really need from this is the chakra control exercises and the scalpel jutsu.”

“Is… your mother a nurse or something?” Haruki had heard weird things from Sayaka about what Noburu had said to her. Things like how he had seen the nine-tailed fox demon’s jinchuuriki do a jutsu and copied it.

“No, she’s a chef. But, spoiler warning,” Noburu leaned toward Haruki’s head on the top bunk, “reincarnation is real as it turns out.”

Haruki paused when he heard that, and almost fell out of his bunk when he fully processed it. “Wait, what?!”

“Reincarnation. S’real. Hope you’ve been counting your karma.”

“Can you two keep it down?!” Another genin from a row of bunks over shouted. “People are trying to sleep!”

“Well, try harder!”

Haruki glanced down at Noburu just before he extinguished the candle mounted on their bedpost. He saw the genin’s eyes turn pale and bulge the veins around it -- so he could see in the dark, presumably. He seemed keen to finish his book.

As if he could see Haruki watching him -- with the Byakugan, he probably could -- Noburu pointed at the book, then tapped the side of his jaw and mouthed the word ‘dental repair’.

The Fujimoto heir scurried back into bed, and tried to sleep rather than entertain the idea of Noburu working on his teeth in the future.

He, along with everyone in the castle, was woken up later in the night to the cry of a whale which preceded an earthquake.

\--

Third Mizukage.

Before he had been a shinobi, Ryukotsusei had been a samurai in the service of the man who would become the First Mizukage. The art of chakra manipulation wasn’t all that difficult to grasp when he began to study the art of shinobi. There was merely a lot less ceremony.

When he’d gone to put on his armor, it didn’t fit. When he’d gone to take up his sword, he found he couldn’t quite remember how it had felt in his hands. He’d been born and raised before the villages were formed, and he’d grown soft enough that his sword was no longer part of his arm. But if he didn’t go with his armor, he definitely had to bring his sword.

Ryukotsusei emerged from Kirigakure dressed like he had in his younger days. Pin-striped arm and leg warmers, the latter had built-in sandals, a black jinbei, and a white haori over the top. He carried no visible ninja equipment other than the ice-bombs mixed into his hair and his sword -- it’s long white ribbon fluttered behind him. It made him stand out among the cloaked and masked Anbu who went with him.

It was snowing, soft and gentle. A good omen for him, but a poor one for his enemies.

The grey-cloaked commander of his Anbu escorts pulled back to run beside him. “Lord Mizukage….”

“I see them,” Ryukotsusei muttered. “And sense them. Thirty seconds, then we engage.” The Konoha ninja his enemy had hired showed their hand too early -- an Anbu unit to assassinate a Kage? Ryukotsusei would have to teach Hiruzen respect when they next met on the battlefield. Maybe he’d learn the names of the shinobi sent to kill him, and taunt Hiruzen with the knowledge. The implications would speak for themselves.

Thirty seconds came and went, then as one the Mist ninja formed handseals and called out -- “Hidden Mist jutsu!”

A fog bank enveloped the forest, even as the snow continued to fall. Anbu split off from the Mizukage as he drew the snow-white blade he’d brought with him.

A fish-masked Anbu parted the mist and threw a shuriken at the Mizukage -- but even as it flew the ninja made hand seals. Where there had been one shuriken, suddenly there were hundreds.

Almost bored to tears, Ryukotsusei allowed the shuriken to pass around him -- when one struck him at last, he vanished in a puff of smoke and left a ball of ice in its place. Ryukotsusei formed handseals with his free hand while he moved.

_Each snowflake is a small bit of ice_ , his father had taught him. _And we can fly through ice like air._ Ryukotsusei flitted between snowflakes until he passed by one behind the Leaf Anbu. Suddenly, he emerged and thrust his snow-white sword into the enemy. When he struck, the Anbu vanished in smoke and left a tree branch in his place. Quicker than a cut could bleed, Ryukotsusei vanished into another snowflake and flitted between them until he found his target again.

His ninja were silent, the use of chakra softened their landings to where they generated no sound. However, the clash of steel on steel echoed through the mist.

His attack on the fish-masked Anbu continued until the steel of his white sword met a black adamantine staff capped in gold at both end. Ryukotsusei’s eyes narrowed. “Hello, Hiruzen,” one Kage greeted the other. “Welcome to Water Country.”

“The warmth of your hospitality makes me forget it’s winter,” Hiruzen answered behind his Anbu mask. The two Kage split apart as a fuma shuriken flew through the air at where they had been. Hiruzen spun his staff around, and it grew with each rotation -- until it tore through trees and slammed one foolish Anbu to the ground as it passed.

Ryukotsusei vanished into the snowfall and emerged high in the sky above. With one hand he formed seals and molded chakra. “Ice release: senbon hail.” All around him snowflakes paused and lengthened into deadly needles before they fell to Earth at speed. He’d been so far above them that none of the Anbu or Sarutobi had heard which jutsu he used -- but it covered such a wide range that they felt its activation.

_One of mine down,_ the Mizukage thought to himself, _I have to even the numbers._

While the ice senbon fell to Earth and dug into the snow or the trees, Ryukotsusei flitted between them. A novice would need full mirrors to use the Demonic Reflection technique, but with practice the amount of ice needed grew smaller and smaller.

Ryukotsusei emerged from a senbon in the same motion he swung his sword upwards. The pig-masked Anbu backflipped away, and thought he had escaped perhaps. The long ribbon that fluttered from the hilt of Ryukotsusei’s sword lashed out suddenly, and wrapped around the Anbu’s neck. Before the man could produce a kunai to cut free, Ryukotsusei brought the pommel of his blade down as the ribbon pulled the Anbu up. The strike shattered his mask, and exposed his face.

All the Mizukage had to do then was blow. His icy chakra mixed with the moisture in the air and froze the man’s face solid. His body spasmed and thrashed a moment as the frigid cold worked through to the Anbu’s brain, and then stopped. Quickly as he’d arrived, Ryukotsusei vanished into the ice again. The Anbu’s body fell down to the forest floor.

Ryukotsusei stepped out of the ice and leaned on the trunk of a tree for a moment. His breath came out in frosty clouds, his heart beat so loud it rattled his ears. He took a deep breath and reached to the ice on the branch he rested on, and bade it stretch to become a spike which almost skewered Sarutobi in the neck as the Hokage flew in for an attack.

A puff of wind chakra from the Hokage stopped his forward momentum and saved his life. He spun his staff to build momentum, and the two Kage’s weapons crashed. Sparks flew, steel on adamant rang out. They fought on the branch for thirty-seconds, walking sideways and upside down around it as the Hokage’s heavy strikes forced Ryukotsusei back.

_In a fight of muscle on muscle, he wins._ Ryukotsusei wisely flitted into a snowflake and retreated again. Moments later, a tongue of fire fifty feet long passed through where he’d been and tore a tunnel through snow and mist. In his escape he passed by an Anbu from each side locked in a taijutsu battle. Without a moment’s hesitation the Mizukage took two ice bombs from his hair and threw them, attached to senbons, at the pair. Seconds later two corpses were impaled on tree-like ice-spikes that had grown from where the bombs had impacted.

The literal second he was out of the ice, Sarutobi was on top of him again with his staff poised to strike. Ryukotsusei blocked his staff and flitted to the snowflake behind him for a rear attack. Sarutobi moved his staff to block, so Ryukotsusei flitted again. From an outsider’s perspective it looked like Ryukotsusei would vanish and reappear only for the Hokage to block his attack. He just needed one opening.

Sarutobi, as it so happened, needed one opening too. He deflected Ryukotsusei’s attack, and moved his staff so that the gold-capped end pointed directly into the Mizukage’s abdomen.

There was a moment of silent horror as Ryukotsusei realized what was about to happen, and Sarutobi had the _gall_ to wink at him. The next moment, the adamantine staff exploded in length and drove Ryukotsusei through the air, and the trees, and a rocky hill, and then through more air until it stopped. The Mizukage, battered and in terrible pain continued to fly for a moment before he landed in the snow and rolled. He stopped partially off a cliff. One arm hung downward, and one eye looked down at the sea. While the Mizukage came back to his senses, he heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow. With the hand that hung down, Ryukotsusei formed hand seals.

“Goodbye Ryukotsusei,” Sarutobi said, solemn.

“I believe it is customary to grant the condemned their final words?” The Mizukage continued to form seals. When he sensed no motion from Sarutobi, he took his breath and spoke. “You really are too soft-hearted for this work, Hiruzen.”

When the seals were completed, the chakra was released. Hiruzen realized his peril but was given insufficient time to react. A horned baleen whale made of ice lept from the sea and flopped onto the cliff-face while Ryukotsusei pulled himself over the edge. As he fell, he saw the land shake from the impact. His white sword’s ribbon wrapped around his arm, and the blade moved to dig itself into the cliff-face as he fell.

The ice whale broke apart and fell to pieces around Ryukotsusei, but he had used so much chakra he soon passed out.

\--

Jounin Kurosuki.

Raiga emerged onto the scene of a showdown -- but between whom and who had survived? The jounin brought with the garrison and himself fanned out and scoured the area from the treeline to the shore. All they could find was a mass of ice that had been in the shape of a horned baleen whale before it crumbled.

Until he looked over the edge of the cliff and saw the Mizukage hanging from a sword embedded in the cliff face. Raiga could tell he was chakra exhausted, he’d barely come out of whatever fight he’d been in, and he was totally defenseless.

Even still, none dared get close.

Raiga knew the mood of the home guard like it was his own -- most of the time, it effectively was. Ryukotsusei had done nothing but make the war worse, especially now that he’d at best tied a fight. The Mizukage would be out of commission for a long, _long_ time. Time they frankly didn’t have.

“We’re going to move into the forest now, commander,” one of the jounin told him over the radio. “We’ll let you know if we find anything, out”

Over the radio, the Swordsman replied. “Roger. Let me know if you find any bodies.” Raiga, wielder of Kiba, drew his blades and stepped onto the cliff face. With the wall-walking technique, he swung ninety degrees no problem. He couldn’t stomach indecision.

_What are you doing,_ he asked himself.

“What’s best for the village,” he muttered.

Lightning gathered around the Kiba twin blades as he approached. Those who wielded Kiba had unique funerals -- their bodies were incinerated, turned to ash by the power of the weapon. No stone cold tombs for them, only the lightning’s warm embrace.

Raiga Kurosuki walked down the side of the cliff and looked at the unconscious form of the man who had caused decades worth of suffering. He made his decision.

Ashes fluttered away in the winds, lost among the snowfall.

\--

Chunin Kanzaki.

She stood at attention with her genin teammates behind her, similarly at attention. Noburu even complied without back sass, a red flag that something serious would be discussed. They stood in Raiga’s office while he rocked in his swivel chair and watched the sea’s waves and the lake’s stillness contrast through his window.

On his desk was a familiar white-bladed sword with a short and scorched ribbon attached to the hilt, half the blade was broken off. The Mizukage’s weapon, fresh from battle.

“We found this at the site of a battle,” Raiga explained, soft and distracted. He gestured limply at the sword. “No sign of the combatants or of the Mizukage anywhere. Sayaka, I want you to take command of the chunin and organize search parties.”

“Yes, Raiga-sensei,” she responded, and bowed.

“The sword was in the cliff face, so we can’t ignore the possibility that he fell into the ocean. Haruki, Noburu, you two know how to water-walk, yes?”

“Yes, Raiga-sensei,” they answered together. Noburu was _never_ that respectful, something had gone wrong with the universe.

“Good. Gather all the genin who can do so as well and join Sayaka.” The jounin rubbed his face, like he was tired. “I’m going to send a message to the Seven Swordsmen. In the absence of the Mizukage, we have to send someone back to the village to run things.”

“Will….” Sayaka looked down at her feet for a second before she gathered her resolve and looked up again. “Will we sue for peace in the meantime, sir?”

“Not until a Fourth Mizukage is named, assuming the Third is dead. We still have to _try_ and find him.” Raiga returned his gaze to the sea. “Diplomacy is the purview of the Mizukage, you see. All of the surviving jounin have to determine candidates, and reach unanimous consent before we send the request to the daimyo.”

“Right, we’ll get to work right away sensei. Thank you for placing your trust in us.” Sayaka turned to walk out of the office, and Haruki followed suit. But Noburu stayed in the pose of attention, unmoving. “Um, Noburu…?”

“Raiga-sensei hasn’t dismissed us yet,” the boy said, his eyes focused on their jounin sensei.

Sayaka frowned, glanced at Haruki, then at Raiga-sensei. Both of them looked befuddled -- but Noburu was right. She had just assumed a level of familiarity. Noburu showing respect was so jarring that Sayaka and Haruki automatically returned to their at attention poses.

“...At ease,” Raiga said, bewildered on top of his tiredness. “Something up, Noburu?”

The boy relaxed from his at attention pose and put his hands behind his head. “Well, you’re one of the Seven Swordsmen. The odds are good that you’ll end up being the next Mizukage -- yeah?”

Sayaka’s eyes widened, she imagined Haruki’s did as well. But Raiga just slumped in his chair.

“I don’t think so,” he said, soft. “I’m only seventeen, and though I’m one of the Swordsmen I’m not sure I have it in me. But I’ll be in the running, definitely.” He blinked and turned his back to them entirely. “You’re dismissed.”

When they left their sensei’s office, Haruki got all up in Noburu’s personal space about his display earlier. “What was that, thrall? You wouldn’t know respect if it slapped you into low Earth orbit! What gives?”

Sayaka couldn’t say she didn’t want to know too, but she remained quiet. If two people hounded him about it, Noburu was more likely to shut down rather than answer.

“You _saw_ something last night, didn’t you?”

That threw Sayaka for a loop, and she watched the two of them while they walked through the castle. “Huh?”

Noburu flicked Haruki on the nose. “Could you stop giving people hints? This isn’t some mystery novel where we drop in-jokes about things we know all the time.”

Haruki soothed the stinging pain in his poor nose before he fired back. “But you did! You saw something last night, after the jounin left!”

“You were supposed to go back to your bunks,” Sayaka muttered. She’d been ordered to do the same, and with nothing to see through the windows she’d done so. It irked her that there had been something to see and she missed it.

“You should know how it is trying to tell us to do stuff by now,” Noburu said over his shoulder to her. To Haruki he responded, “Christ, if it’ll get you off my back -- yes, I _saw_ something. No, I’m not telling you. No, I’m not giving hints. I’m not giving any ominous implications, or referencing anything you can research to figure out what I saw. You want to see neat things? Get better night vision!”

Sayaka pouted. Haruki pouted.

“If you two are going to pout all day instead of doing your jobs, I’m going to practice that magical palm medical jutsu on you instead of a fish. It’ll leave a sunburn on you and it’ll sting for _days_. Yeah, that’s what I thought. Double time!”

\---

In case you’re wondering, yes. Tobirama developed the Hirashin after he saw what Ryukotsusei could do with Demonic Ice Mirrors and decided he needed to plagiarize it to hell and back. Thankfully, intellectual property laws don’t exist in the Naruto universe. Yet.

Don’t let Noburu be your doctor, he finds the tf2 Medic to be a role model and that should be all I need to say.

...Turns out, the Byakugan can restrict its sphereical field of view to get longer distance in one direction. Funny, huh?


	11. Sitrep

**Ch 11: Sitrep.**  
  
\---  
  
Third Hokage.  
  
Hiruzen woke up with a splitting headache and an angry monkey flicking him in the forehead repeatedly. He was laid out on a raised cot in a cave with a blanket over him, and the aforementioned angry monkey at the head, flicking him. Enma, boss of the ninja monkeys, student of the four-tailed monkey demon, and one of Hiruzen’s closest allies. The ninja monkey was taller than a man, quite burly, and covered in dark skin and white fur. He was dressed in a jinbei with mesh, a tiger-skin jacket and a Konoha headband. A loyal friend, quite irate with Hiruzen.  
  
“How. Many. Times. Do. I. Have. To. Tell. You,” Enma growled while he flicked his summoner in the head. “More. Distance. Between. You. And. The. Shadow. Clone.”  
  
“In my defense,” Hiruzen rasped as he tried to move his arm and winced. It felt like his arm was on fire -- painful but not enough to make moving impossible. “I didn’t expect an ice whale to leap from the sea to the treeline.” He worked and got his arm out from under the blanket to bat Enma’s hand away. His arm and hand were covered in bandages.  
  
Enma bristled and held Hiruzen’s arm back while he used his other to continue his assault. “Oh? Why? Why would you assume the Two-Faced Dragon wouldn’t have a technique like that? Why would you assume that a man defined by _vicious cruelty_ and his utter _lack_ of honor would do _anything else_?!”  
  
Hiruzen slowly worked his other arm out from the blankets -- it too was bandaged, including the hand -- and held Enma’s attacking hand at bay. “That jutsu is meant to work with existing ice, and I didn’t notice any icebergs off the coast, that’s why!”  
  
Unfortunately, Enma had two hand-like feet to continue his attack on Hiruzen’s head. “And you forgot his kekkei genkai lets him freeze even seawater with minimal effort, huh?”  
  
“Would you knock it off?! I’m well aware that I underestimated Ryukotsusei.” Hiruzen leveled a glare at the monkey king. When the flicking stopped he pulled back the covers and tried to sit up. Searing pain slowed him down, but ultimately didn’t stop him as he sat up. His arms were bandaged, but aside from redness and some bandage-covered poultices, his torso seemed okay. His legs were bandaged too, however, when he checked. “Did you do this, Enma?”  
  
“Please,” the royal monkey sniffed. “I was stuck under just as much ice as you -- and I don’t have fire-release jutsu.” The boss summon jerked his thumb toward the cave entrance. “Your Anbu got us out of there.”  
  
Owl and Swan knelt before the cave entrance, their Anbu cloaks a little ragged but otherwise they looked complete. But that left two Anbu missing in action.  
  
“Thank you, Swan, Owl.” Hiruzen nodded to them and frowned. “Pig and Mouse?”  
  
“Killed by the Mizukage,” Swan said. Her hand clenched against the ground. “We located their bodies, and sealed them into a scroll for disposal back at Konoha.”  
  
“Excellent.” He felt ever so slightly hollow at the words. He’d known Pig and Mouse for years, and they had been excellent bodyguards. But the Two-Faced Dragon was, as they’d said many times, a deadly foe. “What of Ryukotsusei?”  
  
“MIA, Lord Hokage,” Owl responded. “We had to get you, Enma, and the bodies out of the area before Kiri forces discovered our involvement.”  
  
Swan spoke up, “the forces from the castle have begun a search -- but it looks like the Mizukage fell into the sea and was lost.”  
  
Hiruzen crossed his legs and considered the situation. They couldn’t _assume_ Ryukotsusei was dead -- that would lead to a nasty surprise. So, all their planning from that point on had to account for a sudden appearance of the Mizukage. “How long have I been out?”  
  
“A day, thereabouts,” Owl told him in his medical nin tone. “Your extremeties suffered minor frost damage, and there were some injuries which resulted from that senbon hail that descended on us -- but they should be remedied by tonight.”  
  
“I was quite lucky that Ryukotsusei didn’t find me before I’d removed those senbon.” Horror stories that his teacher, the Second Hokage, would tell him about Ryukotsusei long before he was the Two-Faced Dragon came to Hiruzen’s mind. The man’s ability to jump in and out of ice quickly enough to pursue fleeing targets and change attack directions directly inspired the Hirashin sealing jutsu the Second would develop. “All of his Anbu…?”  
  
“Gone. Mouse had the last one on the ropes -- but then the Two-Faced Dragon intervened. His man didn’t survive either.”  
  
“If there is any justice in this world,” Enma muttered, “then Ryukotsusei is in a hole in hell somewhere, being eaten by mice.”  
  
Though he agreed, Hiruzen had other duties to see to. “You say you’ve been watching the castle?” When he received confirmation, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Have you, perchance, seen our tertiary target…?”  
  
\--  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke.  
  
Noburu looked at him as though he’d grown two additional faces. “What?” The boy asked. “You asked the Hokage to come grab me? Are you insane?!”  
  
Kousuke arched his brow at the young man. Isobu and Saiken had bade them speak to each other again -- though the boy had come to Saiken’s dominion this time around. “He is under contract to me… by proxy, mind. But if the Mizukage is dead, as you say, then it might not be strictly necessary.” Kousuke sat down in the ankle-deep water of his mind and Saiken’s dominion and pondered. “Depending on who succeeds Ryukotsusei, that is.”  
  
“Knowing my luck, he’s going to assume I’m an Orochimaru by-blow or something. Have you seen these eyes?” The boy sat down as well and pulled his eyelids apart. The eliptical irises Kousuke had seen had become entirely verticle slits, and the brown color had faded slightly. “And that’s assuming he doesn’t see me when I’m practicing with my kekkei genkai.”  
  
Kousuke patiently waited for the boy to finish, and calmly replied. “Orochimaru would have been twelve years old when you were born. There is zero chance he would believe you were a ‘by-blow’. A relative, on the other hand…” Kousuke nodded, and let the implication speak for itself. “I’ll admit, when we last talked the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. Now, however,” Kousuke scratched the side of his face as he eyed Noburu, who had begun to develop pale patches on his face, “I’ll admit I can see a resemblance.”  
  
Noburu looked confused. “Wait… he was twelve? But -- that doesn’t make sense.” The boy ran his hands across his stubble hair. “My dad _obviously_ escaped from an Orochimaru lab. The guy had reptilian eyes, horns growing out of his head, he was an unstable hodgepodge of genetic traits….”  
  
“I don’t know about that.” Kousuke didn’t like the image Noburu had painted in his mind. “But Orochimaru was only eighteen when the last war ended, I know as the papers made a big show about how he and his teammates were named Sannin.”  
  
“Then… who -- augh.” Noburu held his head in his hands. “So it’s either Danzo or Madara experimenting around then. Great.”  
  
“...Madara experimented on people?” He had no idea who Danzo was, but in the end -- Madara was the more credible threat.  
  
The boy shrugged. “I mean, he’s actively cloning Hashirama Senju -- to the point where he can replace one of his nipples with Hashirama’s entire face. It seems like something he’d do.”  
  
Saiken, in the depths, shuddered and slithered slightly further away. “Thank you for that _utterly charming_ mental image, yeah?” The slug’s tone was thick with sarcasm.  
  
“This conversation isn’t about kinkshaming Madara Uchiha for his fetish of replacing his nipples with Hashirama Senju’s face -- though that is definitely something we need to spread far and wide. We can outsource our kinkshaming to the general public.” Noburu clapped his hands in time with his next sentence. “Modern problems require modern solutions.”  
  
“Kink _what now_ ,” Kousuke said as he tried desperately to get the mental image Noburu had conjured out of his mind. “How do you even know if that’s true? Is it from your past lives?”  
  
“Yes, actually.” The boy waved his hand. “And glad you actually believe me, now. Before you ask -- because others have -- some past version of me achieved spiritual perfection but refused to escape the cycle of reincarnation.” The boy shrugged. “Normally when you do that, you’re supposed to become a bodhisattva. Help people achieve spiritual perfection and all that.”  
  
“I’m aware,” Kousuke nodded, accepting of the explanation. “I can’t help but notice that you used the word ‘normally’, as in this is the exception.”  
  
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head. “The version of me that achieved spiritual perfection… kinda didn’t want to share the wealth. The universe couldn’t really resolve someone being spiritually perfect, but also selfish, and me being like this is the result.”  
  
“Those… are mutually exclusive concepts, yes.” Kousuke boggled as he tried to make sense of it. He understood how such a thing would rattle the very universe. “I’m going to have to meditate upon that, I think.”  
  
“Yeah, inducing a universal fatal error was fun and all, but we’re getting off track.” Noburu eyed Kousuke. “I’m trying to mold chakra to show you the reason why I really _do not_ want Hiruzen Sarutobi’s complete and undivided attention for even a moment, and it’s not working.”  
  
“Oh.” The monk looked up at the cavernous room and its giant crystals. “That’s because this is Saiken’s realm -- which is pretty far removed from your body. You probably need to borrow some of his chakra to do it, unless you have some of Isobu’s?”  
  
“Oh, so human chakra doesn’t work here -- wait.” The boy relaxed, but then looked to the side with one eye. “I’m trying to remember if this will make any parts of me explode.”  
  
“Well, this is just a mental projection of yourself anyway.” Kousuke shrugged. “It won’t reflect damage back onto the real you.”  
  
“Good to know.” When the boy opened his eyes again, he looked at Kousuke with pale eyes absent a dark pupil, but with bulged veins all around. Byakugan.  
  
“Ah. And… you cannot simply refrain from using it?” Kousuke’s mind had been boggled, bombarded, and now was bashed by the information he’d been given. A byakugan outside the Hyuga clan would likely lead the boy to a life of fending off assassinations or, even worse, potential wives.  
  
“I could… try. But it’s hard.” The boy sighed. “I want to develop this skill, and start using it with other skills for new combinations. I don’t know when Sarutobi will deign to visit, and thus, when it would be safe again.” The boy glared at him, extra piercing with the byakugan active. “I’ve lived entire lifetimes hiding parts of myself. It’s _viscerally_ unpleasant. Speaking of which.” Noburu’s eyes returned to normal as he arched his brow. “Do you know how puberty interacts with kekkei genkai?”  
  
A pit began to develop in Kousuke’s stomach. “If it’s anything like puberty with bijuu chakra… I’m going to guess not fun.”  
  
“Not fun at all, nope.”  
  
\--  
  
Jounin Kurosuki.  
  
The news from Nagi wasn’t good. Fuguki had gotten into a direct fight with Kousuke before the retreat order had been given, and he was still out cold. It was only because of Jinin that the largest Swordsman of the group hadn’t been left behind. Of the remaining five on the island, they all agreed that none of them could leave Nagi or they would face at least one mass desertion. Each one had to be there personally to keep their troops in line and serving Kiri. The non-shinobi forces were next to nothing -- they’d been left behind by the shinobi, who could retreat faster, and Kousuke’s rebels had caught up to them.  
  
Water Country’s armed forces were effectively in an ‘every man for himself’ situation. The once well-oiled machine of conquest had stalled and broken down. Raiga poured over the reports from the earlier days of the rebellion to find out _why_.  
  
Near as he could tell, it started when they didn’t send any forces to support Moon Country’s occupation. Moon Country was wealthy beyond belief, but it was small -- deemed unimportant. There was only one port, and at the time the loyalists had held it. The lack of reinforcements versus the constant stream of resources and troops into Sea Country at the time, spelled their doom.  
  
Moon Country was the first to officially break away from being a colony, and returned to independence. From there their fabulous wealth purchased mercenaries, supplies, and ships. They funded the rebellion in Sea Country by proxy and, combined with how spread out Sea Country was compared to the heartland islands, ran the loyalist forces ragged until they had to cut Sea Country loose.  
  
Water Country was every bit as wealthy as Moon, but at no point were the noble clans forced to contribute to the war effort. The eyes caste contributed barely anything -- while the hands caste had their taxes raised, and the foot caste saw wave after wave of conscriptions.

  
When he combined all the information together he reached an infuriating conclusion. Moon Country hadn’t been conquered because of its fabulous wealth, Alcohol Country hadn’t been conquered for it’s volcanically rich soils, Sea Country hadn’t been conquered for its open trade with the southern continents, and Nadeshiko hadn’t been conquered to cheat the system and gain a second ninja village. None of the conquered land’s strengths had been mixed into Water Country’s.  
  
The daimyo and Mizukage had conquered their neighbors for the sake of possessing them, and nothing more.  
  
“That’s it?” Raiga asked himself as he looked over hundreds of reports, memos, and forms. Fujioka had a plethora of them given its place as a halfway point between Kiri and Nadeshiko. “All this violence, all this death, all this _repeating trauma_ , for _greed_?!” Raiga slammed his desk, so hard that the wood splintered. “To treat entire nations like _toys_?!”  
  
Before his frothing rage caused him to go on a rampage, the teenage jounin sat down and put his mind to a different task. Kirigakure. Raiga was the only one of the Seven in a position to withdraw to the village and keep order. If there was no one there to keep them in line for too long, the Kaguya clan would get _ideas_. If it wasn’t the Kaguya, it would be one of the other villages once word about Ryukotsusei spread.  
  
At least the Seven Swordsmen had agreed on who they would put forth as a candidate for Mizukage, assuming he lived through the rebellion. Juzou Biwa, the Swordsman of Kubikiribouchou -- the executioner’s blade. A brutal fighter, but only in combat. Out of a fight, Juzou was a patriot and cultivated camaraderie in his men. Naturally, Juzou had made threats against being made Mizukage, but none of them listened.  
  
“Kirigakure is going to be a nest of leeches and vipers,” Raiga muttered. He couldn’t leave until the search parties had covered at least the most likely places Ryukotsusei’s body could be. And in that precious time, he feared something dreadful would happen.  
  
\--  
  
Director Ruan.  
  
Things in Kirigakure would soon reach their breaking point, if something wasn’t done. It had started when Anbu brought her bodies that she needed to falsify cause of death reports for -- Takashi and his staff. It’d been easy to write it off as an ambush by rebel sympathizers, but that seemed to only make the political forces in the capital even more upset.  
  
Apparently Takashi had been sent to inform the Mizukage he was to be replaced, a fact that the daimyo had announced to the capital and Kirigakure in a public address -- that Fu worked desperately to keep quiet.  
  
But they couldn’t keep the residents of Kirigakure quiet about the topic -- they frankly didn’t have the manpower to conduct a police state affair. Competing rumors of rebel sympathizers on the big island close enough to assassinate the daimyo’s messenger competed with the Mizukage killing him in a rage. Neither worked to their interests.  
  
And the Kaguya clan had been _suspiciously_ quiet.  
  
Suzume looked over her drafts of the restriction seal to pass the time while Anbu found suitable test subjects for her to field the prototypes on. None of the paperwork they’d recovered from Uzushiogakure or from the seal masters of Kiri’s history told her why putting even seals on top of odd seals and vice versa was bad. They made note of seal combos that wouldn’t work because of it, but didn’t record why it was bad itself. Too much of sealing jutsu was taught master to student, there were no textbooks for it yet.  
  
The two hooked prongs on the outside of the Hyuga seal were the parts which administered pain, while the manji in the middle sealed their kekkei genkai on death. The hooks at the end of the manji, near as Suzume could tell, were the parts which linked the two functions together. Ultimately, the scroll hadn’t been viable but the notes about it which invoked the imagery of the trigrams led her down an interesting route.  
  
The most likely candidates she’d narrowed the restraint down to were seals based around the bagua. She’d narrowed it down to the two symbols related to the earth -- the element which opposed the three-tailed demon’s water powers. Per the notes she’d found stolen from Uzushiogakure’s corpse, the bagua had potent sealing abilities when placed onto the body in certain locations. All eight would balance a person, but just one in the right place could theoretically be used to restrict their jinchuuriki.  
  
She held the two bagua up to inspect them. “Earth,” she said to the sketch of three broken lines stacked atop each other. “Seal of the tiger which embodies self control, and controls the adrenal gland and the body’s muscles when placed below the navel.” Suzume focused on the other. “Mountain.” A solid line atop two broken lines. “Seal of the monkey which embodies loyalty, and controls the testis and excretory system when placed on either knee or either foot.”  
  
Suzume set them both on her desk and steepled her fingers. “Mountain is best when used on men, but the placement makes it risky. A ninja can easily lose one or both legs in the field. But the power to coerce greater loyalty might be worth the reduced punishment capacity.” She lifted her glasses to pinch her nose. “However Earth is more useful as a leash, even if it is best used on a woman. Self control is a vital trait needed in the village right now.”  
  
Someone knocked at her office door. “Director,” the subdued voice of one of her Anbu said as though she were in the room with Suzume. A neat ninjutsu. “We have gathered as many foot caste as we believe won’t be missed. They are being prepared in the ritual chamber.”  
  
“Excellent,” Suzume sighed as she stood and grabbed her notes. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”  
  
Soon, they’d know how best to leash their snapping turtle jinchuuriki.  
  
\---  
  
Madara, this is an intervention. Having your ex-boyfriend's face stitched over your nipple isn't a healthy way to deal with your breakup.


	12. Go Far

**Ch 12: Go Far**  
  
Chunin Kanzaki.  
  
“We’re going back to Kirigakure,” Raiga-sensei announced at their next team meeting. “Pack up your stuff, get vengeance on people who have offended you, and get ready to go. Haruki, I don’t want you slowing us down again.”  
  
Sayaka tried to hide her glee. She’d be able to restock, and would be able to sleep in her own bed for a while! And she’d have the opportunity to get the boys in the gym where they could really start on better exercises. Raiga-sensei clearly didn’t looked happy, so she didn’t want to agitate him.  
  
“Are we going to have time for you to train us around filling in for the Mizukage?” Noburu asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.  
  
“I don’t know,” Raiga-sensei said honestly. He looked so _tired_. “No one in living memory has had to cover for the Mizukage -- he’s been in charge for what feels like forever.”  
  
“What I’m hearing is he never actually considered the reality of a Fourth coming along, so he didn’t train anyone in how things work in Mizukage-land. Wonderful.” Noburu sighed. “If I can do my own taxes, I can help you with paperwork. Princess can broil anyone who won’t fall in line, and Sayaka can be the faux voice-of-reason for people to try and manipulate.”  
  
Sayaka turned and narrowed her eyes at her chubby teammate. She clicked her tongue before she spoke. “Faux?” Her tone was soft, deadly, dangerous.  
  
Haruki seemed to have accepted being ‘Princess’, since his response totally ignored the nickname. “I’m a Fujimoto. We don’t broil. That’s the Uchiha. You want broiling? Uchiha.” He gestured with his hands, to indicate they were totally separate things. “Fujimotos _boil_ people alive. It’s _boil release_. Not _broil_ release. Boiling. That’s what I’ll be doing.”  
  
“I am quite capable of killing my enemies and filing my paperwork without you,” Raiga-sensei imperiously cut in. His expression and tone softened considerably once they’d all gone back to professional attention. “But the offer is appreciated. I’m the only one of the Swordsmen able to move about freely, until Fuguki wakes up. So we head back to Kiri, we keep the clans from killing each other, we keep the lights on, and come back when things calm down.”  
  
They were dismissed and sent to gather their stuff. Due to how many traps she had to disarm and stow away to make her bunk available for someone to claim, she took the longest to make ready. She’d thought so anyway, when she arrived Raiga-sensei and Haruki were there -- but no Noburu.  
  
“I honestly didn’t think I’d beat Noburu,” she said as she adjusted her pack. “Unless he went looking for me?” She looked at Raiga-sensei and Haruki each in turn, but they shook their heads. “Where could he be?”  
  
“Maybe he’s getting vengeance?” Haruki proposed with a shrug. The eyes caste boy had lost his air of superiority with several punches to his face from all three of them over the month at Fujioka, surprisingly quickly. “There were some punks that kept trying to start a fight.”  
  
“And all he knows how to do is spear people with coral,” Raiga-sensei sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll go get him before he kills someone.” The jounin vanished with a shunshin, and left the two teammates alone.  
  
“...So, Noburu’s bald because he got that tattoo,” Sayaka started. “I shave my hair so it doesn’t catch in any traps I have. Why are you bald?”  
  
“Noburu’s hair is actually growing back,” her genin teammate responded with a raised pointer finger. He crossed his arms and huffed. “And my parents had me shaved for being put onto Raiga-sensei’s team.” He pulled on the few hairs above his lip. “They let me keep the mustache, though.”  
  
“They really, aggressively, shouldn’t have.”  
  
\--  
  
Third Hokage.  
  
Fujioka Castle was surprisingly easy to infiltrate, given the number of ninja stationed there. Most of the ‘chunin’ were only of that rank because they had leadership ability -- the actual, fully qualified chunin were at the front lines. Three people under transformation slipped past them into the castle’s inner workings without challenge. Stealth was a game where, if played properly, it seemed ridiculously easy -- finding intruders and spies was a lot harder than the stories made it out to be. Luck was a major factor.  
  
Swan, Owl, and Hiruzen split up to seek out their target. There weren’t a lot of young men with patches of differently colored skin, so he was easily found in the barracks by Owl. The Anbu signaled the others that the target had been located. The boy also stood out, aside from his looks, with his odd ability -- he could grow red rocks from chakra and sculpt them how he wished. Owl told Hiruzen he’d watched the boy form what looked like glasses, but had slats across the eyes rather than glass -- like shutters.  
  
However, Owl also told him something interesting -- the boy looked extraordinarily like Orochimaru in the face and eyes. Hiruzen had never heard of someone with a strong resemblance to his student since the boy’s family had passed away. Perhaps a cousin or older sibling had stayed in Wave when the rest of the family came to Konoha? His student might want to investigate.  
  
They watched the boy and waited for a moment to extract him -- he’d had a meeting with his team and jounin sensei, then they left for the barracks, according to Owl. They were going to leave. The jounin was one of the Seven Swordsmen, and Hiruzen didn’t want to risk a conflict, so they would snatch the boy before he left.  
  
The barracks was mostly empty at the time, but they had to do it stealthfully. They had to do so in a way that no one would chase after them.  
  
“I always feel like,” the boy said in a sing-song tone, “somebody’s watching me.”  
  
Hiruzen, behind his fish anbu mask, glanced at Swan and Owl, to make sure none of them had tipped their hands.  
  
“The rest of the song doesn’t really fit with the vibe I’m getting from you three,” the boy said as he ignored the quizzical looks from his comrades in the barracks. “And I’m afraid I don’t recognize swan-face up there, so I can’t just ominously say your names and get you all to back off that way. And, if I raise the alarm -- you’ll just knife me in the neck.” He shrugged. “We’re at an impasse.”  
  
There was no doubt about it -- the boy knew they were there. Worse -- he’d recognized Hiruzen, he could see at least one of Owl’s eyes to make a guess.  
  
“Who in the fuck are you talking to?” One of the other genin in the barracks asked, confused.  
  
“He’s foot caste,” another muttered. “Probably crazy, or has imaginary friends.”  
  
Hiruzen didn’t like killing children -- but if the boy knew they were there, and _who_ they were, there was no other way around it. He nodded at Owl who faded into shadows.  
  
“Maybe a few kicks will teach him to -- hrlk!”  
  
“Teach him to -- Kei! Ohgods -- “  
  
“What are you guys going on ab -- ...ow….”  
  
The three other genin were dealt with and Hiruzen and Swan lept down.  
  
The boy curled his finger and held it up to his lips. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think you were ruthless enough to do that.” He shrugged. “You _are_ the most soft-hearted Kage out of all of them.”  
  
Hiruzen’s eyebrow twitched. He felt somehow insulted by that. They didn’t talk, Swan moved behind the boy and delivered a chop to the back of the neck. Hiruzen had expected to catch the boy as he fell, but the genin with the odd glasses just stumbled forward and put a hand to his neck.  
  
“Ow!” The boy muttered and looked at Swan with incredulity. “Did you just try to knock-out chop me?”  
  
Rather than dwell on why an Anbu’s knock-out chop, practiced for literal years by that point, hadn’t worked, the Hokage and Owl formed hand signs together. A genjutsu would work just as well as a chop. It took a surprising amount of effort to genjutsu the boy to sleep, but they managed it.  
  
In seconds, they were gone -- just as a jounin-level chakra began to approach the barracks.  
  
Hiruzen felt that, by leaving the scene the way they had, that they’d just made the boy a missing-nin.  
  
Well, if they hadn’t, then the boy showing up in Kousuke’s camp certainly would.  
  
\--  
  
Director Ruan.  
  
As much ‘fun’ as it was to stress test the Mountain seal -- she had to stop and file her notes for the next Mizukage. “Mountain seal not recommended for use on jinchuuriki -- possible prison applications,” she noted as she walked out of the ritual chamber. “We’ve confirmed it is possible to kill patients by using the seal’s control of excretory functions to induce dysentery and uncontrollable bladder -- leading to dehydration.”  
  
Those foot caste fatalities would need to be replaced, but not right away. There were still plenty left for testing the Earth seal.  
  
“As projected, the seal was most effective on the men. Amputation of the seal area led to the loss of seal-based control.”  
  
Spirits, she sounded like a monster when she said it out loud. The Mizukage was dead, she didn’t have to think like that anymore, talk like that anymore. But she’d been doing it for so long that it seemed normal.  
  
“Amputation subjects retained for testing of Earth seal.”  
  
Someone would have to do this. Someone would have to test these things, make these awful decisions and do this to someone. She didn’t want to be involved, she didn’t want it to be her that this happened to.  
  
Her last notes written down, she looked down at the notes she’d written. If the subjects hadn’t been foot caste, she’d be called a barbaric witch for conducting such experiments. If they didn’t _need_ a leash on the jinchuuriki, she’d be a monster for testing for such things. If they weren’t at war, she’d be executed before sunset.  
  
She could… just stop. Stop the experiment, let the foot caste go, and wait for orders. But… if the Mizukage wasn’t dead, if he came back and found her work half-finished… or if the daimyo changed his mind, she’d be dead.  
  
“...We’ll begin the tests on the Earth seal after a night’s rest,” she decided.  
  
\--  
  
Jounin Kurosuki.  
  
“We have to look at this, and see what most likely happened,” Raiga explained as he looked over the scene. Three genin lay dead, their bodies still in the position they fell. “Let us begin.”  
  
Raiga and the other castle jounin examined the bodies while the chunin looked on from afar -- Sayaka was among their number. Raiga tried not to look at her while he worked on the bodies, he didn’t want her to cloud his judgement.  
  
“All died by kunai to the neck,” one jounin announced as he concluded his examination. “Death by a stab to the central throat which was torn to the side to make it impossible to prevent blood loss.”  
  
“These two died at roughly the same time,” another said as he indicated two bodies close together, then pointed to one still on his bunk. “While he died at last a minute later. He tried using his pillow to minimize bleeding, but it just drew it out.”  
  
“Most likely the foot caste went berserk,” the third, who had done the least inspection, announced. “It killed its betters, and escaped into the night like an animal. As foot caste are wont to do.”  
  
Raiga didn’t move to decapitate the last to speak, though he wished he would. He’d noticed something, and squinted to confirm it in the bloodstains. “This one has blood on his foot,” he said and indicated one of the two on the ground. “There’s a footprint in the blood, so the first died, he stepped in it, and turned around -- there’s a smear over here to support that.” Whoever had killed the first did so from behind, then killed the second after the boy had turned to witness the killing, and the third had been attacked almost a second later to die a minute afterward. Way too fast for a genin.  
  
All three jounin got what Raiga’d meant by that, but the third to speak just couldn’t let go of his foot caste obsession. “The beast killed the first boy from behind, he’s your student you’ve taught them all assassination techniques they can use for this.”  
  
“Not to Noburu.” Raiga shook his head. “And there’s no coral around here. Noburu’s fastest means to kill is a coral spear, and that’s not how any of these people died.”  
  
“He has kunai too, you know. Just because the jinchuuriki prefers its coral abilities -- “  
  
Raiga snapped his gaze to the loudmouth and struck him. “Idiot!” He glanced over his shoulder, no longer able to avoid Sayaka’s reaction. He saw shock and confusion on her face that faded into neutrality then into steely determination with a hint of anger. Damn.  
  
“Apologies, commander,” the jounin smirked as he spoke. “I’d forgotten we had our subordinates in our company.”  
  
“You’ll be lucky if I don’t put you among them if you keep talking.” Raiga focused on the dead genin and stood. “We’ve had rebel forces attack this castle before, and we know they’ve hired ninja -- on top of the Sea Country clans they already had. It’s not impossible that someone infiltrated the castle to kidnap him.”  
  
None of the jounin looked convinced. The one he’d smacked shook his head. “I say the foot caste killed them and ran away like a beast. It’s the most likely scenario.” Raiga soon found himself outnumbered among the jounin, and his smirking subordinate decided to cement his position. “Let’s ask its teammate. Chunin Kanzaki -- come forward.”  
  
“Belay that,” Raiga snapped. His hands drifted down to Kiba’s hilts. “Unless you want to join the bodies on the floor.” Raiga was within his right to kill a disobedient subordinate.  
  
The smirk left the man’s face as he realized he could push Raiga to fight.  
  
“Isobu,” Sayaka said without prompting, as if she’d just had an epiphany. “That’s the demon turtle isn’t it? That’s who he threatened to feed you to when we left the village.”  
  
Raiga cringed, as there was nothing about Noburu that Sayaka could have possibly said at that moment which could have hurt Raiga’s position _more_.  
  
“See?” The jounin looked to his fellows for support. All four of them couldn’t overpower Raiga, but they could lead a mutiny against him -- particularly if he didn’t have Sayaka’s support. “The beast was already making threats against his betters.”  
  
With the possibility of a mutiny if he went against the group -- Raiga capitulated. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t prove it right away.  
  
By sundown, the word had been sent to Kirigakure and to the front line. Noburu Jiang had been declared guilty of treason, murder, and desertion. He was a missing-nin from that day, until the end of his days unless pardoned.  
  
\--  
  
Mother Jiang.  
  
She received the news, about her son’s guilt, and it broke Akami for a few days. The demon had overpowered him -- that was the only reason she could think of to explain what had happened.  
  
Some days it was all she could do to get out of bed and look at photos of happier times. The pictures with Yuukio hurt like being burned. That poor girl’s life, thrown away just as her son’s had been thrown away. With the Mizukage gone, she had no need to cook for him -- so there was nothing to leave the house for. There had been a scuffle at Arata’s house, but it had been quiet ever since.  
  
It was so quiet in Kirigakure -- more than it had been during the last war. It seemed so odd -- Noburu had been born during the war, but it hadn’t felt as bad as the rebellion. Perhaps it had been the period of peace that came between. She’d gotten used to things being good, and she couldn’t accept that they were bad again.  
  
She’d lost her husband. She’d lost her best friend. She’d lost two kids to a war and the _stupid_ Mist village.  
  
It was… too much. Too much, too fast. She couldn’t take it. Akami resolved to get out of Kiri, out of Water Country. Perhaps she’d go to Honey Country, or Wave. Maybe… maybe she could go to Sea Country and find Jirou. She didn’t know yet.  
  
Akami began to pack things, and slowed down as she wondered if she would run into Noburu out in the world. Would he recognize her, if the demon controlled him? Could she seek out a priest to undo the seal, and set her son free?  
  
She wouldn’t find out in Kiri. She had to get away.  
  
Akami went down to the docks to get a schedule of departures which she could leave on. There was a ship bound for Wave, which she could purchase a ticket for -- good fortune despite the snow. A quick stop to the bank, and she had her ticket.  
  
When she got home, she found her door was unlocked. A terribly bad omen. The smart thing to do would be to turn around and go to the docks to leave. But she would lose everything -- her pictures of her son and husband, her identification papers, and the cooking tools needed to work as a chef abroad.  
  
Against her better judgment, she entered her house and looked around. Someone had clearly been in the house, things had been moved. Photos were missing from the walls -- but not all of them. She could pack up the rest and make a break for it. That’s what she resolved to do when she didn’t immediately see anyone in the house.  
  
She got all the way to her room before she saw the masked and cloaked figure out of the corner of her eye -- and a sudden blow to her head knocked her out.  
  
\--  
  
Legendary Sannin Orochimaru.  
  
Konoha mostly ran itself, he found. A signature here, a spoken word there, and the machinery worked itself to manufacture goods, weapons, and shinobi. While Jiraiya kept the village’s spirits up, Orochimaru kept it fed and lit. The only difficult part was keeping up with the sheer volume of signatures needed, and for that there were shadow clones to keep the snake Sannin relatively free to do as he wished.  
  
That also meant he had free time to do things for obligations -- such as the case with Mito Uzumaki. Her health had taken a turn for the worse -- Orochimaru was no Tsunade, but his medical skill helped him stabilize her more than once. They would need to transfer the fox over to a new host sooner rather than later.  
  
An Uzumaki girl from the survivors of the destruction of Uzushiogakure had been proposed, and she would make an excellent choice -- if he could just get Danzo to shut up about the need for the host to be a Konoha native. Orochimaru could read the one-eyed fool like a book; he feared that Kushina, the girl, would use the fox’s power to see Uzushiogakure restored. But there was nothing there to restore -- Ryukotsusei had burned it to the ground. No one lived in Whirlpool Country anymore -- they were uninhabited islands. His beliefs weren’t taken seriously.  
  
But Orochimaru knew that if Danzo wasn’t strong-armed into compliance, he’d sabotage the procedure. And if Danzo did that while Jiraiya and Orochimaru were in command, he’d be executed. But that would take time -- time enough for Sarutobi-sensei to return and pardon Danzo. Again.  
  
Honestly, their teacher’s soft heart seemed to cause more problems than it solved by way of better public relations.  
  
The snake Sannin sat in the Hokage office, his notepad full of ways to force Danzo to shut up and go with the new jinchuuriki proposal that he could pitch to Jiraiya, when a puff of smoke appeared on his desk.  
  
A small, tan, tailless monkey with a Konoha headband and a white vest saluted Orochimaru and held out a vial filled with blood and a note. “From Lord Hokage,” the monkey said, and vanished when he wasn’t needed.  
  
Sarutobi-sensei needed something? The snake Sannin’s delicate eyebrows rose up as he opened the note. It was addressed to him, Orochimaru. ‘Please run a blood and DNA test, compare this sample to yours, and send me the results. I hope you and Jiraiya are well. Fought Ryukotsusei and won. The mission will not take much longer.’  
  
“Well,” Orochimaru sighed, “that will put Jiraiya in a fantastic mood.” It put him in a good mood too -- they’d both been worried about Sarutobi-sensei -- but Jiraiya had lost sleep because of it. But… why a blood and DNA test? Did Sarutobi-sensei somehow get poisoned? Had one of his Anbu been mutated by some vicious Kiri jutsu?  
  
Curious and happy that he would not have to deal with the Hokage business much longer, Orochimaru left the office to run the tests.  
  
That night, Orochimaru and Jiraiya drank to their sensei’s success against the Two-Faced Dragon.  
  
The next day, Orochimaru went to his lab and stared at a screen for hours. It was only when Jiraiya came to investigate that Orochimaru looked away -- though it had caused him some eye strain.  
  
“Um,” the toad Sannin said as he looked over Orochimaru’s shoulder. “I’m not up to date with all this modern equipment, but -- that has your name on it.” He pointed at one half of the screen, where Orochimaru’s personal DNA profile was displayed. “Who the hell is that?” He moved to point to the second.  
  
“Apparently,” Orochimaru smoothly replied with a tone of interest, “that’s my nephew.”  
  
\---  
  
Anyone else notice those magatama on young Orochimaru's collar? Small details that fanfic writers can use to influence their decisions.  
  
...He's going to be so pissed that he got screwed out of the Sharingan by the genetic lottery. So. Unimaginably. Pissed.  
  
Also don't @me about the shutter shades. He just remembered they exist.


	13. D'oh!

**Chapter 13: D’oh!**  
  
\---  
  
Chunin Kanzaki.  
  
“Hmm, no.” Haruki nodded, content with his answer. “I don’t believe you.”  
  
Sayaka sighed and dragged her hand across her face. “What don’t you believe? That the demon turtle made Noburu kill people, or that he’s a missing nin now?”  
  
“The first part.” Haruki lept through the trees after Raiga-sensei, not to be left behind. When Sayaka caught up, he continued to talk. “I know the three you said Noburu killed -- and he wouldn’t have any reason to. Kei and Toji were messing with _me_ , not him -- and I’d told Noburu I’d deal with it.”  
  
She hated how the genin just didn’t instinctively see the bad logic there. “But the demon -- “  
  
“Spirit, Noburu was insistent on that.”  
  
“We never met Noburu! It was the demon from day one!” Sayaka shook her hands to indicate the size of the issue. “It was the demon talking to us, trying to worm its way in!”  
  
Haruki looked at her like she was insane. “That’s not how jinchuuriki work.” Before she could ask, the boy jumped closer and whispered something to her. “That’s a lie that the eyes caste spread around during the formation of the village. So that the jinchuuriki wouldn’t be able to get the support to become Mizukage. My dad told me, since I’m the heir.” He split up to a safe distance again and they both ran to catch up to Raiga-sensei.  
  
Sayaka processed that for a few minutes in silence. Her friend had just casually told her that a belief she’d had ingrained into her as fact was a known lie. It was propaganda. She clenched her teeth and steeled her mind against the dawning realization. “It doesn’t matter,” she told Haruki. “He still killed those people so he could desert, rather than go back to Kirigakure.”  
  
“Also not true.” Haruki crossed his arms while he ran through the trees. “Because if he were going to do that, he’d have killed both of us for knowing that he ‘saw’ something with Raiga-sensei, and he’d have definitely killed _me_ because I know his deepest, darkest secret.”  
  
She almost stumbled, she was so surprised by that. “What? You knew something about him and didn’t tell us?”  
  
“Hey, he told me to stop giving hints!”  
  
It took them a moment to both realize Raiga-sensei had stopped moving after they jumped past him. When they doubled back, Sayaka saw that Raiga had bags under his eyes -- possibly from lack of sleep.  
  
“You said he ‘saw’ something with me?” Raiga dragged his gaze over to Haruki as his students landed on the branches nearby. The jounin narrowed his gaze. “When did he ‘see’ this?”  
  
Haruki sensed danger, it was clear from how he shrank under Raiga-sensei’s gaze. How odd, for an eyes caste to fear a hand caste.  
  
Sayaka noticed how Raiga’s hands twitched. She’d seen that in soldiers on the front, just about to snap. Her mother had told her to look out for that, and to make sure she avoided them. But she couldn’t avoid Raiga-sensei -- so she prepared for the worst.  
  
“The night you and the jounin went out to look for the Mizukage,” she said to take the jounin’s attention off Haruki. She felt she could take a beating better than Princess, if Raiga did snap. “Noburu saw something which led to him showing respect for the first time in his life.”  
  
Raiga sighed, and pinched his nose. “And, Haruki, since he’s a missing-nin now, we need to know this deep, dark secret. It might help the next Mizukage pardon him, if it explains why he allegedly killed those people and deserted.” Raiga snapped his eyes to Sayaka, with a near-manic craze. “Or was kidnapped.”  
  
“I’d… say probably kidnapped,” Haruki muttered. He flinched when Sayaka turned to look at him incredulously. “His dad escaped from a lab in Fire Country!” The boy wasn’t used to getting intense stares from his superiors, it seemed, as he’d buckled easily. “It’s why he looks so weird!”  
  
Sayaka frowned, confused, and turned to look at Haruki. “That’s it? He’s the kid of an escaped lab rat or something?”  
  
Haruki avoided their gaze and nodded.  
  
Raiga, while his hand continued to twitch, rubbed his face and sighed. “Haruki, you need remedial courses on intel handling.” He pointed at the boy. “Why do you think that would mean he’d be kidnapped?”  
  
“Haruki -- he’s a _demon_ ,” Sayaka said pleadingly, though in the back of her mind what Haruki had said about it being a lie echoed. “He… he had to have been lying.”  
  
“He wasn’t lying,” Haruki muttered and rubbed his arm. “Um. I kinda… you know that kekkei genkai he kept hinting at?” When he got confirmation nods, Haruki looked down at his feet again. “He showed me what it was, after I got him to accept me and Sayaka helping him. Konoha would never let that exist outside their village.”

  
“...And?” Raiga clearly wasn’t satisfied. “What kekkei genkai could possibly be so valuable that they… kidnap….” Raiga’s face shifted into a look of absolute stunned defeat as he spoke. His arms fell to his sides, limp. “He has a dojutsu.”  
  
Sayaka felt a cold pit develop in her stomach. It grew deeper as she realized that could mean. Konoha was famous for three kekkei genkai, one of which was extinct. The two great dojutsu clans were guarded preciously, and they’d certainly want to steal any wayward users back to their village. But… Noburu was a _demon_ , hollowed out by the turtle to use as a puppet.  
  
 _Only that’s not true_ , a vindictive voice sing-songed in Sayaka’s head. Her own self-hatred. _Haruki told you that was a lie._  
  
“Yeah,” Haruki confirmed. “The… not as cool one. I think it’s why he started going for medic-nin stuff. He could just….” He shrugged. “See what was wrong, you know?”  
  
Raiga glared at Sayaka with such terrible anger she thought he’d strike her dead with Kiba or lightning jutsu. Perhaps her dawning horror showed on her face, because he took a deep breath and stood up straighter. “So. We have information we can’t share that likely proves Noburu’s innocence. What do we do about that?”  
  
Sayaka was silent. She had to grapple with the contradicting facts in her head that wouldn’t shut up and resolve themselves. Even though she knew some parts were a lie, she couldn’t stop believing them. And that belief was supposed to lose to what she knew to be fact -- but it didn’t.  
  
Haruki, likewise was silent.  
  
Raiga looked at them, and sighed. “Then, with no alternates, there’s only one path left to us. An official pardon from the Mizukage.” He looked at the two of them. “Juzo’s reasonable, and he’ll listen. But are we doing this because his skills would be useful for the village, or something else?”  
  
“I like Noburu,” Haruki said. “As much as I can like a foot caste, I mean. He’s… I mean he’s abrasive, rude, he keeps making jokes about my mother. But, even when he thought it was worthless, he didn’t give up getting better.” The heir scratched the back of his head. “He’s the first foot caste that ever… shouted at me. I didn’t know they _could_ shout.”  
  
It was Sayaka’s turn to speak up. But she couldn’t. She felt paralyzed by the conflicting information -- that jinchuuriki were just human shapes of the demons inside was how she had resolved her mother’s injury. It made the rebels foolish for siding with a demon who would treat them even worse than the Mizukage. They were all fools who’d fallen under the thrall of a demon. But if that was a lie, then they were people. And if they were people….  
  
She really wished Haruki had kept his mouth shut about the jinchuuriki, even if it had been true. It was much easier to deal with the rebellion and with her mother getting hurt when they were just demons. But they weren’t.  
  
She’d need to live with that.  
  
“I… think we should ask the new Mizukage for a pardon,” Sayaka said, and looked at her feet. “But we need to go and find him first.”  
  
“True.” Raiga crossed his arms. “And before any of that happens, we need to get back to Kiri and keep the clans from killing each other. And receive orders from the daimyo.”  
  
\--  
  
Mother Jiang.  
  
She woke up on a bed, which was surprising. She expected that she would wake up in hell. Her last thoughts had been that the ninja had been sent to kill her.  
  
It felt like the room was tossing and turning -- and it only took a second for her to realize she was on a boat. With a bit of motion sickness, she sat up and looked around. A cabin on a boat, definitely. There was a nautical take on the decor.  
  
She noticed her luggage all around the room, everything she had packed. Her eyes frozen when she saw someone in the corner. The demon wearing her son’s face.  
  
It examined her, half in the dark, with strange glasses that obscured its eyes. “I asked them to get you out of Kiri,” it said, soft. “Kiri’s a ghost town right now -- I didn’t think they’d have any trouble.”  
  
“Why?” She asked, and felt anger boil into her veins as the weight of _everything_ weighed down on her. “You took over my son’s body, you made him kill people, you _ruined his life_! Why bother saving me?!”  
  
The demon’s expression, once warm, began to slip into neutrality. “Oh.” It said, defeated. “You think Isobu took me over, just like…?” He snapped his fingers to punctuate the sentence. When she didn’t respond, he sighed. “Oi, Hiruzen!” He turned and shouted at the door. “Get your manky ass in here and explain what you’ve done!”  
  
The door opened and a tan man dressed in Fire Country style stepped inside with a lit pipe in one hand. He looked put-upon, quite tired. “You raised a hellion of a son,” the man said as he approached the table and sat down. “Please, come and sit. I need to explain that, due to complications with our mission, your son’s ninja career is….” The man rubbed the side of his head. “Well, with Kiri it’s likely over.”  
  
“What the hell is going on?!” Akami demanded as she stood up from the bed. Her height made her realize how short the room was -- her hair brushed the ceiling. She allowed herself a moment of hope that she’d been lied to -- that her son was still in there, somewhere.  
  
Hiruzen looked physically pained and glanced over to Noburu’s husk. “Do you really want her to know?”  
  
The boy’s face was a snarl, but he spoke with an upbeat tone. “On page two-hundred ninety, Kanda and Shino find a moment alone in the crypts and -- “  
  
The grown adult promptly held his hands up to his ears and outright begged the boy to stop. “Please! No spoilers! I’ll do as you’ve asked, just stop talking!”  
  
At the end of the explanation -- Akami felt just as enraged as Noburu did. “You killed people and made it look like my son deserted!” She pointed and accused the man she knew to be the Hokage.  
  
“Yes. It was the most efficient way to get our mission completed.” Hiruzen sighed and pinched his nose. “And if I knew your son was the jinchuuriki of the three-tails, I would have taken a longer time to observe the situation.”  
  
“But when it was just a boy whose life you were getting ready to ruin -- then it was okay to rush?!” Akami would never have yelled at the Mizukage like that. She knew it, deep in her heart. Everyone who had ever spent more than a year in Kiri learned how to fear the Mizukage more than death.  
  
Hiruzen had the decency to not answer, though they both knew the truth of it. Shinobi didn’t care for the lives they ruined on the way to completing a mission. The only people who mattered were other shinobi, and the client. Everything else was _noise_ as far as they were concerned.  
  
Akami drummed her fingers against the table, and looked over in the corner at her son. The boy’s smile hadn’t come back -- he looked just as neutral as when he’d initially offered to leave and not come back. Her rage bled away as she looked him over. He was still as chubby, but he had a bit more muscle in his limbs. It was clear he’d tried to make ninja life work at least a little bit. Without words, she opened her arms in his direction.  
  
Before he was a ninja, before he was a jinchuuriki, he was her son. She had to remember that, and she had to remind him that there was someone who loved him.  
  
It broke her heart that her son didn’t immediately come into the hug. “Hiruzen, are you -- “  
  
The Hokage cut him off. “No. I’m not.”  
  
He thought it was a trick, he thought it was a lure for a trap. She hated how she knew that -- with shinobi in the room -- he would never be sure that it wasn’t. The one time he would trust someone without reservations, he’d be dead. Slowly Noburu emerged from his corner and approached her. By inches, he came to her and let her wrap him up in a hug where she squeezed just enough. The cabin was quiet for a long time while Akami hugged her son.  
  
She could feel tremors which spoke of oncoming tears, and made herself ready.  
  
“Yuuko died for nothing,” Noburu forced out. He’d probably realized it long before, as Akami had, and it only really set in when he felt safe in Akami’s arms.  
  
“I know, sweetie,” Akami answered and rubbed the back of his head. His hair was growing back -- soon that awful seal would be covered. “I know.” But that sweet girl who loved bugs was gone forever. Her life stolen, and the sacrifice cheapened.  
  
Noburu didn’t start to hug her back until his resistance to the oncoming wave finally broke down.  
  
\--  
  
Third Hokage.  
  
It hadn’t really hit him how barbaric Ryukotsusei was until he managed to gain context clues out of Akami to figure out the missing pieces. The Third Mizukage had created a bloody graduation ceremony where students would be pitted against their friends or siblings, and either one died or both would die. He’d known that they’d killed each other for graduation -- but he imagined it like a tournament where lots were drawn. But no. The Two-Faced Dragon’s legendary cruelty would live on in the shattered lives of his victims who in turn shattered more lives.  
  
One man. Countless acts of cruelty.  
  
If there really was a hell -- Hiruzen hoped he would see Ryukotsusei there.  
  
After he’d left the family to it, he returned to the deck where Owl and Swan waited for him. “She’s well. The boy is finally starting to relax,” he told the Anbu.  
  
“We still don’t know how he knew we were there,” Swan said with her arms crossed. “Or how he knows Owl’s identity.”  
  
The medical Anbu huffed. “We don’t know that he does know -- he hasn’t dropped my name.”  
  
“And it’s ultimately for the best that we not test the possibility that he’s right.” Hiruzen puffed on his pipe and watched the winter sea stretch out into the horizon. “Depending on when Orochimaru started those test results, he could send them back at any -- “ He stopped and turned to look at the deck. He stared for a long time then sighed. “I was so sure that they would pop up at that moment.”  
  
“You can’t rush science, Lord Hokage.”  
  
“Indeed,” hissed a red-scale snake wrapped around the railing with a scroll in her coils. “Science is a surprise.”  
  
All three shinobi jumped, none had heard the snake messenger’s arrival.  
  
The snake’s mouth curled with delight. “Lord Orochimaru has compiled a detailed report of Konoha’s current status.” She offered the scroll to Hiruzen, and withdrew her coils when he took it. “The test results are near the beginning -- but Lord Orochimaru requested I stay in this bitter cold until you read the whole thing.”  
  
Normally, Hiruzen would offer to take the summons into the warm cabin -- but it was occupied. With that not an option, he stretched out his hand to the snake and let her slide up under his jinbei top. He trusted his student’s summons. Even if they felt weird as they went up his sleeve, and their heads poked from his neckline.  
  
Owl and Swan waited while Hiruzen read the scroll, and refrained from comments.  
  
Hiruzen sighed when he finished the read, and rolled the scroll up to burn. “Okay, so Orochimaru suspects Danzo of treason.”  
  
“In other news, water is wet,” Swan muttered. She held her hands up when Owl and Hiruzen looked at her with shock. “The kid’s snark is infectious, Lord Hokage. I apologize.”  
  
“In this specific instance, it relates to Miko and the transference of the fox.” Hiruzen puffed his pipe as he adjusted to his guard’s unprofessional quip. “But the test results are conclusive -- Noburu and Orochimaru are related. Unless Akami is a tsuchinoko in disguise, I daresay that Orochimaru had an older brother before his family came to Konoha.”  
  
The snake in his shirt hissed sharply.  
  
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to be racist.”  
  
“There are so many problems with what you just said, and I haven’t the time to list them,” the messenger snake muttered. “What are your orders?”  
  
“If Danzo continues to object to Kushina as the jinchuuriki, place him under house arrest until the sealing is done.” Hiruzen puffed, annoyed by his old friend’s terrible attitude. “As for the relation to Orochimaru -- we could make the case to Kousuke that the boy would be happier in Konoha, perhaps.”  
  
“Unlikely to happen.” Owl shook his head. “Kousuke is a jinchuuriki, and Noburu is as well. They both know how ninja villages treat their kind.”  
  
“Somewhere nearby, then. Where he wouldn’t be hunted as a missing-nin….” Not for the first time, Hiruzen cursed the villages which had pooled their strength to render Whirlpool utterly uninhabited. Uzushiogakure would have been an adequate place. “Wave Country, perhaps.”  
  
A small island a stone’s throw from the shores of Fire Country. Small was a relative term -- it was bigger than most of the islands which had made up Whirlpool Country. But it had no ninja clans, it had no ninja village -- besides its natural beauty it had no interest to anyone. A quiet, but gentle place. Ideal for his ruthless student to build a bond with his family, perhaps.  
  
“I hope you have a good memory,” Hiruzen told the snake at his collar, “because it’s a long message and I haven’t a spare scroll to send it on.”  
  
“You know, if you hadn’t burned that other scroll -- it was reversible.”  
  
“I am capable of hindsight, yes.”  
  
\---  
  
If you're cold, they're cold. Let them into your shirt.


	14. No Way Out

**Ch 14: No Way Out**  
  
\---  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke.  
  
Kousuke sighed, and sipped his tea. Across from him in the diplomatic tent were representatives from the courts of the Honey and Noodles daimyo. The monk had hoped for great news, but it was more a mixed bag.  
  
“There is nothing I can say to convince your lord and your lady, my friends?” The monk tilted his hat back to look them in the eyes. Both diplomats were visibly older than him -- and both were terribly afraid. “The Mizukage is dead -- perhaps arrangements can be made….”  
  
“I’m afraid not,” the messenger from Honey Country responded and sipped her tea as well. Her affluent robes were golden brown -- and bore the repeating hexagonal pattern of beehives along the sleeves. “Our two noble masters have spoken at length -- and the work needed to salvage their reputation after dealing with such a place just… isn’t worth it."  
  
The representative from Noodle Country nodded in agreement. Her robes were reminiscent of noodles with cream colors and wavy patterns. She also wore a hat which strongly resembled a bowl with noodles and chopsticks, though Kousuke knew better than to make a comment. "There is already so much work that needs to be done, our noble masters feel this would be one burden too many." She sounded much less objective, like she had disagreed with her daimyo.  
  
"Even with the potential benefits?" Kousuke knew there was little room for him to negotiate them to his side of things. But he had to at least try. "There is a lot of power and wealth available to be seized. Opportunity like this is rarely found a second time."  
  
"Perhaps. But the daimyo consider the risk of sinking their dynasties to be too great. Their answer is no."  
  
Kousuke nodded, and the three finished their tea in peace. When he departed, he reflected on how the negative response would complicate the rebellion and its dissolution. With such situations left unresolved there would be a serious question as to the wisdom in putting down their weapons and going home. Would the enemy they defeated return in a year's time? Ten years?  
  
He had to wonder if he had the power to stop the rebellion he'd built if it became another evil force in the world.  
  
His meditation on the subject was interrupted later in the day by a messenger’s arrival. A boat from Kiri had been spotted on approach. While the more cautious rebels made ready for battle, Kousuke went out onto the docks to meet the ship as it approached. He had the benefit of the spirits forewarning, he had no fear.  
  
While the Kiri ship was docked by masked ninja, Kousuke kept his eyes open for his guest. Noburu stood near the gangplank with a large, tall, and angry woman. The boy's patchy skin was more obvious than in the realm of the bijuu, it more strongly resembled the cow-like pattern on his leg warmer sandals, and he had queer glasses with slatted lenses on. As soon as the gangplank was lowered Noburu started down along with whom Kousuke presumed was his mother.  
  
As soon as he opened his mouth to greet them, he was struck by a mighty slap from Noburu's mother.  
  
"Don't you act polite," she snarled, "when your orders almost ruined our lives!"  
  
The monk promptly leveled a glare at one of his rebels who seemed to take offense on Kousuke's behalf. The archer had been about to knock an arrow before the monk's look made him reconsider. "I must make my apologies somehow, madam," the monk replied as he turned to her with a smile and no trace of his foul look seconds before.  
  
"Your apologies are worth nothing compared to all the harm you've done." She rested her hands on Noburu's shoulders. "You have him here, now what?”  
  
Kousuke glanced upward and saw the ninja he’d spoken to before on the deck of the ship. Then he looked down to Noburu. “Have you shared any of your information with him?”  
  
“It didn’t seem wise,” the boy responded, “considering he might want me to go to Konoha, and Danzo Shimura is still alive.”  
  
Noburu’s mother seemed confused, and Kousuke picked up on an ever so slight narrowing of the shinobi’s eyes.  
  
“Then it seems like we have talking we need to do. Come,” he said and gestured to the shinobi to follow. “Let us talk in my tent -- and come to an educated decision.”  
  
An hour later, Noburu and Kousuke sipped tea together with ease while the Hokage of the Leaf Village and Noburu’s mother Akami stared at them in slack-jawed disbelief.  
  
“If it’s any consolation,” Kousuke offered after he’d finished his tea. “Madara’s plan for the bijuu is already being foiled.”  
  
Noburu nodded in agreement. “When I die and Isobu is allowed to roam freely, he will dive down to the deepest point in the ocean and not emerge until Madara’s plans are withered dust.”  
  
“Withered _to_ dust,” Kousuke gently corrected.  
  
Noburu ignored him. He focused his gaze on the Hokage. “You have no reason to listen to me, but I have no reason to manipulate you. While Danzo Shimura lives, I cannot take anything you would offer seriously -- he does tend to over-rule you with your teammates.”  
  
Akami shook herself out of her stupor. “But… how could you know all this? You’ve never been to Konoha, you can’t know what Madara Uchiha’s doing….”  
  
Noburu shrugged. “You remember what I said after they let me go home? I remember my past lives. A couple let me get advanced knowledge of the future.” He sipped his tea again, and focused on Sarutobi. “Orochimaru’s not cut out for being a Kage. He isn’t the type to ask for help, even from his friends, and the weight of all the death you make him deal with because you think he’s strong ends up breaking him. He’ll eventually come out of it -- but it takes thirty years for him to put his mind back together.”  
  
The Hokage flinched, as if struck, and shakily sipped his tea. “You knew my intentions…?”  
  
“Even Orochimaru thinks it’s how things will go -- he’s just not willing to admit it to himself.” Another sip. “Follow the growth of Jiraiya’s student, Minato Namikaze, and Fugaku Uchiha. Between them, you will find a more adequate Hokage. Danzo fears Fugaku, and will hide his qualifications from you -- in preparation for a later plot to kill the entire Uchiha clan that you won’t punish him for, because he’s your friend.”  
  
Again, Sarutobi flinched.  
  
Kousuke gently poked Noburu in the shoulder. “Oy, oy. It’s not nice to go airing out people’s dirty laundry in front of others.”  
  
“When he ends up being Hokage until he’s sixty-eight, and this ends up getting a lot of people killed, I think he’s got thick enough skin for it.”  
  
The Hokage steeled his features. “You… know this to be certain?”  
  
“Unless you change the future.” Noburu raised his eyebrows above his glasses. “Think you can pull that off?”  
  
“Did… you know this would all happen?” Akami asked, her face a mess of conflicted emotion.  
  
“No. The period of history I learned about in my past lives was… about twenty-seven years from now.” He sipped his tea. “Which is why I didn’t want to be a ninja -- because all the information I had available said being a Kiri nin at this point in time was borderline suicidal.”  
  
Kousuke had to concede the point. He’d killed enough Kiri ninja to have an idea of how dangerous it was. He’d certainly never willingly go into a fight with himself.  
  
Sarutobi sighed. “You know, in Konoha --”  
  
“No,” all three of the others spoke up as one.  
  
“I was just -- “  
  
“No.”  
  
The Hokage sighed again and pulled on his face with his hand. “How about Wave, then? Peaceful, remote.” He puffed his pipe idly. “You have family in Konoha -- Wave would be close enough to visit.”  
  
Akami looked conflicted again, Kousuke noticed, but the large woman turned and rested her hand on Noburu’s shoulder. “Wave is where Noburu’s father was born. It… would be better than Kiri, I suppose.”  
  
“I suppose I could follow you to Wave after the rebllion is concluded. Once Lord Hokage here gets back to work and finishes his mission, I imagine they’ll sue for peace in no time.” Kousuke bowed his head in the shinobi’s direction. “And I don’t suspect they’ll be in any position to keep possession of their stolen land.”  
  
Akami and the Hokage quickly developed wary expressions. Fair, Kousuke supposed. He was a revolutionary, incredibly dangerous, and he had enemies.  
  
Noburu looked up at his mother and got her to focus on him instead of Kousuke. “Isobu and I get along really well -- but I can’t channel his energy without hurting myself, and if I don’t express him somehow he’ll grow resentful. I learn how to be a better jinchuuriki from him, maybe some martial arts to stay in shape, and I build a coral reef every few years. Not terrible, right?”  
  
“I….” She sighed, and took a long sip of her tea. “I’m going to have to talk with this ...Isobu spirit at some point, aren’t I?”  
  
“Probably.” He glanced at the Hokage. “Kushina will be, of course, welcome to visit. But considering her stance on Kurama… I don’t see her ever wanting to learn how to be a good jinchuuriki.”  
  
“Who’s Kushina?” Akami asked, as the color drained from Sarutobi’s face.  
  
“Kurama’s next host. Once Mito passess away. Not a pleasant experience for him, but it only lasts about twelve years.” Noburu shrugged, and glanced at Kousuke. “So, I take it you don’t want us going off to Wave without you?”  
  
“I’d rather you waited until this… mess is cleaned up.” The monk gestured to the camp outside. “We can set you up with contacts, you can meet people who might make interesting friends later on in life… but if you want to go to Wave now, I won’t stop you.” The two jinchuuriki looked at each other, sizing each other up silently. “Shall we meditate on this?”  
  
“That seems the smart thing to do.” Noburu made a face. “And as much as I like doing stupid things, we gotta be smart sometimes. Gods, I miss being an orc. Could just bite fools, kiss handsome men, raid and plunder without any higher thought needed. Anyway. Meditation.”  
  
Kousuke chuckled and crossed his staff across his lap to meditate, while Noburu shifted his seated position to center himself. He could practically feel confusion and worry waft off his other guests.  
  
\--  
  
Third Hokage.  
  
He hadn’t really believed the boy’s rambling about the future until he mentioned Kushina. No one outside Uzushiogakure or Konohagakure should have known that name -- least of all a genin missing-nin.  
  
While the two meditated, Hiruzen pondered what he’d been told. Fugaku Uchiha… well, it was definitely true that the boy could tell who Owl was -- no more doubt on that. Perhaps the boy was a genius sensor? Or something more.  
  
“Madame Jiang,” Hiruzen said as he turned to her. “You said Wave was where your husband was born? I did not see him in Kirigakure -- if you would like us to go back -- “  
  
“That’s okay,” Akami said, a distant look on her face. “He’s not there. We don’t know where he is. Or if he’s alive.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter right now. You said Noburu has family in Konoha? Could you tell me about them? So I know who to look for on the times they decide to come visit.”  
  
Hiruzen gave limited details -- lots of broad, general statements -- as he wanted to speak to Orochimaru first. Which meant that he had to hurry up and go stab the teenage water daimyo in the neck. Less risky than the fight with Ryukotsusei, but also less satisfying.  
  
 _There’s also all that dirty laundry Noburu aired out,_ Hiruzen thought, annoyed. _Which I now have to deal with -- particularly because of Owl_.  
  
If Danzo knew Noburu knew of future events -- any future events, not just Konoha’s -- he’d demand the boy be brought to Konoha or killed. Which was likely why the boy had added his ‘no’s.  
  
After he and Akami talked, Hiruzen returned to the ship and ordered his shadow clone crew to make ready to depart. Once Ouza Island started to fade into the horizon, he rubbed his face and entered the cabin. “Owl,” he called to the Anbu on deck. “A moment of your time? We need to talk, you and I.”  
  
There really was no easy way to ask one of his ninja if they knew any way that their most legendary ancestor -- a feared missing-nin -- was still alive and why he wanted to destroy the world.  
  
\--  
  
Isobu.  
  
The turtle spirit opened one of his eyes as his brother and their two jinchuuriki manifested in his watery dominion. Saiken had shrunk down a bit, to fit inside a bubble, while his jinchuuriki floated in another bubble alongside. The spirit of the sea inclined his head to his guests, and cast his gaze on his jinchuuriki.  
  
“I do not think it is wise to trust the Hokage,” the turtle spoke. “You know him best, I will support you. In pursuit of that, I believe we have to plan for this ‘Danzo’ to arrive and seek to control or kill us.”  
  
“Until he gets like nineteen Sharingan put into his body -- he’s pretty weak all things considered.” Noburu shrugged. “Cloak and dagger, mostly. Truer to the ninja skillset than most of Konoha, but he has no defense against whatever go-fuck-yourself release jutsu someone may have.”  
  
“Hey, mind the profanity, yeah?” Saiken commented and bobbed his eye-stalks down to Noburu. “This an important meeting, yeah?”  
  
“Quite.” Kousuke removed his hat and sat down in his bubble. “What do the two of you have to say about going to Wave?”  
  
Isobu rumbled, and produced a shower of bubbles up from his face. “The Kaizoku Sea is not very deep, and the straits of Kasumi are outright shallow -- if I go north to the Hokubu Ocean, I will be spotted -- they will know where I have gone. If the plan is for me to escape stealthfully to deep water in the event of your death -- Wave is not ideal.”  
  
“But it’s close to Kurama, Matatabi, and Gyuki,” Saiken added. “And since Wave is mostly mangrove swamps, people won’t be shocked if I show up there. Depending on how their jinchuuriki behave, we could all collapse on a threat and overwhelm them.” He turned his stalks over to Kousuke. “Is it rude for me to plan for your death? Isobu and Noburu are making those kinda plans, so I assume it’s cool, yeah?”  
  
“It depends,” Kousuke said and stoked his chin. “Would you help me avoid death?”  
  
“Of course, yeah!”  
  
“Then plan away!” The monk reclined in his bubble and pondered. “Ouza is right on the border of the Kaijuu Ocean -- would staying here be amenable?”  
  
Noburu shook his head. “It’s an active warzone right now, my mom’s going to be okay staying her for a little while if she thinks that the war could end any day. But one raid from Nagi -- and she’ll want to get onto a boat right away.”  
  
“Assuming the Kiri ninja can even get themselves together enough to raid.” Kousuke tried not to smile. “There are fewer and fewer ninja who are combat ready every day. Even their commanders are wearing down.”  
  
“It… would be better for the plan. But… depending on who Sarutobi thinks is my family -- I could get some useful skills in their visits.” Noburu put up his hands like he was weighing two options. “On the one hand -- I look like a bootleg Orochimaru. Him being the one to visit would lead to a solid edge in general ninja skills. But if Sarutobi caught me using my Byakugan -- “  
  
“I thought you were going to refrain until he was gone,” Kousuke said and pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache.  
  
“Yeah, didn’t turn out that way. Impulse control’s always been a problem of mine. But if he saw it -- big if -- then the Hyuga might be who come to visit. That’s a gamble, but I could maybe get something useful from them.”  
  
Kousuke looked down at Noburu, while the boy kicked his feet in the mental water. “There is an unfortunate complication to this whole thing. The Kirigakure issue.”  
  
“There’s an issue with Kirigakure?” Noburu asked, and then shook his head. “Let me rephrase -- there’s a _new_ issue with Kirigakure?”  
  
“Yeah. New.” Kousuke put his mind at peace to avoid a migrane -- Isobu lent him some chakra to help stave it off. “The daimyo of Honey and Noodle Countries will be marrying and taking over the administration of what is now Water Country. But… they entered into private talks with Nadeshiko Island -- which I wasn’t aware of until this morning.”  
  
Isobu rumbled again. “I don’t like where this is going.”  
  
“Nadeshiko Island will remain a part of Water Country… well, whatever they end up calling it after the marriage. And Nadeshiko Village will assume the role of the country’s primary shinobi village. If there is to be a Kage… it will be the head of Nadeshiko who becomes the next Mizukage.”  
  
Noburu frowned, and scratched the side of his head. “What about Kiri?”  
  
“I tried to convince them that Kiri was worth salvaging… but they do not agree.” The monk shook his head. “Kirigakure’s charter will be dissolved. All its residents will be formally expelled from the new country. They don’t care where the Kiri ninja go… but they can’t stay.” He threw up his hands, at a loss.  
  
Isobu looked at his brother and contemplated. This had never happened. Ninja settlements fell in war, or to disease, but… to be expelled? It would spell utter chaos for the whole region as the remaining villages fought to snatch up the expelled ninja, or lost business to the new mercenary clans.  
  
There would also be a high likelihood that the new village would come for Isobu and Saiken -- to shore up their defenses. To establish themselves as powers worth respecting. Ouza was immediately to the south of Nadeshiko, while Wave was significantly further away -- and in Fire Country’s shadow.  
  
Events had conspired to put them between a rock and a hard place. Perhaps their enemy’s hand was at play.  
  
“Wave… is not very well developed. I don’t even know if it has a proper government, or if Fire Country just doesn’t care enough to gobble it up.” Kousuke shrugged. “But it’s right next to Whirlpool’s archipelago which sits vacant… perhaps we could… make something happen? Between my reputation, your family connections, and whatever borderline toxic remnants of Kiri we can scrape together before another country gets them?”  
  
Isobu leaned his massive head down toward the hook, so that the light from his eye shined upon his jinchuuriki. “My power over the sea, and all its spoils, would work well for you if this is how you want things to go.”  
  
Noburu looked at him, then over at Kousuke. “Why help Kiri? You’ve been fighting and killing them for years.”  
  
“The alternative to helping them find a better path in life is that they stay as they are. Maddened, suffering, inflicting pain and misery everywhere they go.” Kousuke spoke with resolve, and Saiken’s approval. The slug’s odd mouth was wide in a grin. “I choose the path that lets me teach them kindness, and that kindness is not a weakness if they don’t allow it to be. Would you help Kiri?”  
  
Noburu thought about it, and his thoughts rolled down through the seal into Isobu’s mind. If the turtle spirit could smile, he would -- even the boy’s thoughts were funny. “I want to help people stop that idiot Uchiha who thinks he’s fit to enslave the world. And to do that… requires power. Personal, institutional, and diplomatic.” He counted it off on his fingers. “Also I want to roast him for a solid five minutes until he gets so pissed off he can’t speak properly anymore, but that’s a me thing. A personal goal. On top of kinkshaming him for the nipple thing.”  
  
“I’m looking at an image of that in his mind,” Isobu muttered. “Madara truly does have Hashirama’s face stitched to his nipple.”  
  
“I had _just_ gotten the mental image out of my head, yeah?” Saiken snapped, upset at his work being undone.  
  
“I’ve lived in Kiri for a while now,” Noburu cut in. “A little bit. A New York minute. It sucks, it sucks _more dicks than actually exist in the universe_.” He gestured wildly while he spoke. “But if things had went on as scripted, eventually Kiri would have taken the dicks out of its mouth. It would wisen up, and become a respectable murder-hooker. There is a heart of gold in this murder-whore called Kiri, and I’d like to see it come to light -- even if it’s not exactly the same.”  
  
It was quiet for a long time in the domain of the turtle.  
  
“You went a bit too far with that murder-whore thing,” the turtle spirit told his jinchuuriki. “Now it’s awkward.”  
  
“Sometimes when you find an analogy that works, you go with it, even if it’s awkward. Bah!” Noburu threw his hands up. “Surrounded by critics!”  
  
\---  
  
The next chapter, chapter fifteen, will mark the end of the civil war arc. Then begins the next arc, leading up to the Third Shinobi World War (with special guest, movie demon dragon) and an eventual timeskip.  
  
...I just got a call. Someone drove an eighteen-wheeler full of chairs through the stations of the canon. The driver has been identified as a sliding office chair, with an odd mustache. If you have any information about this suspect -- keep it to yourself, we don’t respect snitches in this house.


	15. Mist Clears

**Ch 15: Mist Clears**

\---

Mercenary-nin Ruan.

In the month after the Mizukage went missing -- things went to hell. Kiri remained relatively stable with the home guard commander back in charge -- but that was the only good news. The daimyo had become increasingly desperate as the war began to turn toward a definite loss -- with the heartland islands unable to meet their food demand as winter progressed. Heartland farmers hadn’t stockpiled with the expectation to supply the heartland all on their own -- Nagi and Ouza’s surplus had been abundant in years past.

Then the daimyo died. He’d jumped off his balcony and landed in the courtyard of his palace. Already there was talk that the boy’s hateful spirit had begun to haunt the palace -- it had been abandoned quickly.

Suzume, Raiga, and Fu had to serve as impromptu negotiators for the village in their pursuit of peace talks.

It was the most humiliating experience of her life.

She sat across a table from the man who’d murdered her fiance -- and she couldn’t find the energy to hate him. She was more afraid of him, than anything.

With Kiri having put up the white flag -- they didn’t have room to make demands beyond their lives. They expected heavy reparations, they expected restrictions on their jounin and chunin numbers, or the demand for the dissolution of the Seven Swordsmen. Suzume hadn’t expected to be sidelined in the negotiations -- nor the directions those negotiations took.

Kousuke and his rebels had worked out what to do with Water Country long ago -- probably back when they felt their victory was certain. She could tell how that dismayed Fu and infuriated Raiga -- but for her, it was a relief. She didn’t have to do anything to survive other than to obey the terms of the peace treaty.

Noodle and Honey countries would assume administration of Water Country and Nadeshiko Island -- they would all be lumped together into the newly formed Soup Country. The daimyo of Honey and Noodles would marry to cement their rule, and promised that their children would marry into the lines of Water Country’s noble families to cement the Soup dynasty. That was fine, the noble families of the heartland islands had no representation. Famine kept them at home.

Nagi would be returned, and Alcohol Country would be reformed. As the King of Moon Country was the cousin of the late daimyo, his son would marry into a noble family from Ouza island to make Alcohol Country a vassal state of Moon until the Tsuki clan could be branched and self-governance could resume. The position of daimyo of Alcohol would be retired, and the more modern King of Alcohol created.

Whirlpool Country’s archipelago would be opened to settlement -- provided the ruins of Uzushiogakure were allowed to sit undisturbed. Water Country would declare all the claims to its conquered territories null and void.

And Kirigakure would disband -- with all residents and shinobi of the village expelled from Soup Country by the time of the daimyo’s wedding.

That had taken the wind right out of Suzume. She hadn’t taken the time to look at Raiga or Fu after the announcement, she had been too busy examining her hands. They were stained with the blood of hundreds of people, though they looked clean. She couldn’t scrub the blood off in her eyes. All those dead people -- to strengthen a village which had been doomed from the beginning.

The magnitude of the utter waste she’d made of her life and hundreds more would linger on for years. Isshin would be disgusted with her. It was all for nothing.

Then Kousuke offered an escape to her despairing situation. He intended to go to Wave Country and establish a settlement there -- a monastery and a town which could become a ninja village if the nationless Kiri ninja opted to follow him.

How utterly disingenuous. It was clear that the settlement he’d intended to build would become a prison in some way -- meant to isolate the ‘toxic’ Kiri population. But it was better than being a mercenary ninja.

She returned to Kiri and made ready to go to Wave with the monk who’d killed her husband. Isshin would be furious with her -- but she couldn’t bring herself to care. For years, Suzume had done what needed to be done to survive -- her going to live with Kousuke seemed just another instance.

She collected all her notes about seals, her experiments, and carefully destroyed the information on who she’d experimented on and when. With the caste system abolished, they could ask for justice against her -- which could only end with her death.

Medical journals and patient information were all carefully sealed away, and she went down to the ritual chamber to deal with the remaining subjects. Her footsteps echoed in the empty halls beneath the hospital -- until she came to the heavy metal doors to the ritual chamber. Inside, even through the concrete and steel, she could hear the sounds of the subjects. Nightmarish to the uninitiated, but to her simply an indicator of their health.

She slid open a slot at eye level to examine the foot caste within. They were chained to the walls and from the ceiling, too far apart to touch each other, lit by red chemical lights. It showed the bagua seals on their bodies in bright teal.

“Please…,” one of the men on the wall called out to her when he saw her eyes. “My wife… water, for my wife. Please….”

“I’ll get you some water,” she lied easily. She slid the slot closed and opened the door less than a foot wide. She placed a pencil-thin scroll inside and let it roll out before she let go and sealed the door. Handseals were formed, and chakra released. “Water release: Brine flood.” Inside the room she could hear a sudden torrent of water and panicked screams. Some had the wherewithal to beg for their lives, but Suzume ignored them. She formed more handseals and touched the wall around the door. “Ninja art: Reduction jutsu.” Suzume pulled her hands toward one another, and the door shrank. The concrete around the door stretched as the portal was narrowed down to the width of a human hand. Then she did the same to the door from top to bottom. When she left, the door was roughly the size of a hand, in the center of the wall -- and the only sound as the sloshing of water and desperate pleas for help.

She got onto a boat for Wave later that day.

\--

Mercenary-nin Fujimoto.

“I want to go to Wave,” Haruki told his family at the clan’s meeting to decide what to do. All around him, men and women were dressed in the stark reds, whites, and blacks of the Fujimoto albino peacock. The clan’s luxurious mansion, built and expanded on since the time of the First Mizukage, stood empty save for them. The servants had fled already, and more than one had opted to steal from their former lords on the way out. Haruki didn’t care about that, however.

His father, a tan man with oily hair and a pencil-thin mustache fanned himself with a folding fan styled after the Fujimoto white peacock. He looked at his son contemptuously. “You would abandon our home? Our village? Our pride?”

Haruki’s aunts, uncles, and cousins didn’t like the strife between the heir and his father -- Haruki could tell from their expressions. The young man clenched his fists and met his father’s contemptuous gaze with one of his own. “You take pride in being on the losing side, then?”

In seconds Haruki’s father snapped his fan closed and struck him in the cheek with it. Before he’d been trained by Raiga and his friends, that blow would have sent him to the ground. But a fan attack from a man well past his prime barely moved Haruki in that moment.

His father looked absolutely shocked. “To think, my son didn’t even see a battle and he has the gall to tell me who won or lost. Of all the stupid ideas.”

Haruki immediately imagined what Noburu would say. “Staying where you’re not wanted, which will get everyone killed, is pretty stupid -- yeah.” He got smacked again for his trouble. “How do you think ‘the Fujimotos versus a rebel army’ to go?” Again he was smacked. He tasted blood in his mouth. “Think you can win where two years of warfare couldn’t?” And again, smacked.

“How many times do I have to keep this up before you shut up and do as you’re told,” his father asked, genuinely bewildered. His face wasn’t even red -- he smacked his son out of habit, not anger.

“Maybe one more will do the trick.” After the smack which followed, he shrugged and put his hand on the hilt of Sojiro-sensei’s katana. At some point he’d refer to it as his, but he wasn’t there yet. “Guess not. Maybe I should try.”

The atmosphere in the Fujimoto clan meeting became even more tense.

Haruki’s father eyed him suspiciously. “Are you… threatening me, boy?”

“Only to pay back to you, what you’ve paid to me.” Haruki drew the katana in the same motion his father lashed out with the fan again -- and returned the sword to its sheath a moment later. The one iaijutsu move he could do. Haruki met his father’s stunned gaze with an angry one as the cut fan piece flew off to the side. “We will all be killed if we stay in Kiri. That’s the facts. Wave is where a lot of other families are going, and the civilians. We owe those people for helping us through the years.”

Haruki’s father looked at the ruined fan in his hand, and his face contorted in rage. Anger at destroyed property first and foremost, as always. “That was a treasure handed down for generations!”

“Which you used to hit me, because grandfather used it to hit you. Are you missing the part where ‘if we stay, we all die’? Or are you surgically attached to this house somehow?” Haruki looked at his family, proud elites of Kiri, peacocks all of them. “This is just _a house_! We can build another one! If we deserved respect here, we can earn it in Wave and prove how right we were!”

But none listened. Family he’d known his whole life turned their backs on him and offered comfort to his father over the loss of a ‘family treasure’.

Hours later, after he’d packed and gotten onto a boat for Wave -- it hit Haruki. They’d all be dead soon, when the daimyo got married and let the rebels clear out whoever stayed in Kiri. His whole clan -- gone. At least his cousin Mei had left with her clan earlier, but she was a baby. He’d be the only one who remembered any of them. And when he was gone, they’d be forgotten.

He really should have found out where the Terumi clan had decided to go -- he could at least keep in touch with them to know how Mei was, or if she had questions about boil release later on. For the foreseeable future, he was on his own. He didn’t know if Raiga-sensei was going to go to Wave, and he didn’t know what Sayaka or her family were going to do.

He’d never been alone before. It was terrifying. In the hold of a cargo ship full of people, a once-proud Fujimoto buried his face in his bags and tried not to break down.

“Hey.”

A familiar voice drew Haruki out of his almost-breakdown. He looked up and saw Raiga, his hands covered in blood-tinged bandages, his eyes empty of emotion, and his face exhausted.

“When the Fujimotos announced they weren’t going to leave… I feared the worst.” The jounin leaned against the hull and slipped down the wall to sit next to Haruki. “I haven’t seen Sayaka, and the other Swordsmen… weren’t willing to leave either, by and large.” He looked at his bandaged hands, and then at Haruki. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

Raiga-sensei’s presence calmed Haruki a little, but it also drove home how real the situation was. He had left his home, and he’d never go back. He’d never get to see Fujioka Castle in springtime, he’d never get to see if the Mizukage Tower actually had animals in its forest. He’d never get to see the snowfall in Water Country ever again.

“...Wave has really misty swamps, I hear.” Raiga spoke as if he could read Haruki’s mind. “It’s… not the same, but it might be something similar? Hey, come here.” Raiga threw an arm across Haruki’s shoulders and pulled him into a side-hug. “I can see where this is going based on your face. No one’s going to give you any grief while I’m here. Go ahead.”

Haruki let the weight of the awful situation hit him and did as any kid should be allowed to do -- bawled his eyes out. For his family that would soon be dead, for the family he wouldn’t see again for a long time, and for a village that had been rendered toxic.

\--

Legendary Sannin Orochimaru.

The snake Sannin had run through every record he could find. He’d approached the threshold of neglecting his duties to the village until Sarutobi-sensei returned. His parents had come to Konoha during its founding at his mother’s insistence. According to father, she’d said the union of the Senju and Uchiha families in one effort was something that would last hundreds of years. He remembered things about her that seemed unimportant at the time, they’d hardly spoke about where they’d lived before, or how. He remembered how his mother always had her eyes closed, and still seemed to always know where things were and could measure distances.

Her grace and elegance in fighting had always reminded Orochimaru of dance -- so much that he emulated those dances in his taijutsu style.

So when Sarutobi-sensei returned and began to tell Orochimaru about his nephew -- Noburu -- the snake Sannin began to see similarities.

He’d been seated in the tea room of Sarutobi-sensei’s home, with Jiraiya next to him, while their teacher told them about his mission. Naturally, Jiraiya had been interested in Noburu’s mother which occupied the Hokage’s time while Orochimaru pondered.

“You say Noburu’s his name… and that he looks somewhat like me, but with irregular skin tone. My father had a similar condition. Though -- you’re sure his name isn’t ‘Noboru’, and you misheard?” Orochimaru cut into some inane talk his teammate and sensei had gotten into about how his nephew’s foreknowledge of Jiraiya’s pornographic novel had been used as leverage against Sarutobi-sensei.

“I actually asked about that.” Sarutobi answered and smirked around his pipe. “Apparently, when the boy was born your brother was the one who had to fill out the paperwork for the babe. He typoed the boy’s name, and proceeded to sulk about it for literal months.”

“Ah, so the moodiness thing is a family trait,” Jiraiya commented with a smarmy grin. “Good to know!”

“What’s that?” Orochimaru asked, coy, and cupped a hand to his ear. “You want me to tell Tsunade you put one of her most embarrassing moments into your book?” He reveled in how the two of them stiffened and began to sweat bullets. “Which one was it…? Oh right, the one with the chandelier, and the too-large spa robes.”

“C-come on, Oro, it jus-just gentle ribbing!” Jiraiya promptly bitched his face right off with the threat of Tsunade’s vengeance. “No need to get people murdered….”

“The boy has some way of seeing things he shouldn’t be able to,” Sarutobi-sensei cut in. His face had become serious, though he had a drop of sweat just above his eyebrow. “He could see me, and my Anbu while we were observing him. He could read a book that I had closed and in my pocket. And what’s more… he has knowledge he had no way of knowing. The boy claims he’s aware of his past lives, and I suspect he might be correct.”

It was like an explosion had gone off in Orochimaru’s head. He stared, blank faced, while Sarutobi-sensei watched him and Jiraiya made some inane comment. A persistent high-pitched noise echoed in the snake Sannin’s ears.

He began to wonder if that had been how his mother had been so keenly aware of things -- a spiritual power from past lives. It bore investigation.

His parents had also been firm believers of reincarnation -- perhaps they had reason.

“Your brother was born in Wave Country, though your sister-in-law doesn’t think he’s there now.” Sarutobi continued, with his eyes firmly on Orochimaru. “Your nephew seems aware that it is possible the two of you are related -- he might be amenable to visits from you.”

“You didn’t ask him to come to Konoha?” Orochimaru snapped, before he calmed down. “I’m sorry, but… Wave is closer than Kiri, but still far. I would need to be gone for prolonged periods of time.”

“Prolonged periods which I would approve of.” Sarutobi puffed his pipe. “The boy outright refused to consider coming to Konoha before Danzo died. And unless he interferes in the fox’s transfer, you will wait for him to die of natural causes. There is another matter….” Sarutobi cast his eyes into the corners of the room and lowered his tone. “Your nephew is the jinchuuriki of the three-tails.”

That had less of an effect than the reincarnation-bomb, but it still worried him to hear it. Kiri had treated their jinchuuriki like summons -- bring them out to fight until they died, then summon them again.

“...Well, naturally I’ll want to have a look at his seal.” Orochimaru nodded in conviction. “Kiri’s seal masters are… less than competent, if history serves.”

“Still better than Kumo,” Jiraiya muttered with the side of his mouth.

“True.”

Sarutobi nodded in agreement. “I’ll approve your leave request once it crosses my desk,” the Hokage said, brushing off how he foisted the paperwork burden onto Orochimaru. “But I’d like you to gather intel about the ninja village growing there, when you visit. If we can have a friendly village come out of Kiri’s shattered remnants, I’ll be happy.”

Orochimaru recalled maps he’d seen of Wave Country, and tried to ponder where a village could be hidden. Swamps weren’t easily built into -- and there was only one true mountain in Wave. That’d be too obvious.

“If you’re wondering where they’re gathering -- it’s implied in the name your nephew pitched for the village. He seemed afraid it would… annoy you, somehow. I’m not sure exactly why.” Sarutobi shrugged. “They’re going to call it… Otogakure. The Village Hidden in the Sound.”

Ah, the sound on the north-western portion of the island. Sea-access, good fishing prospects, the land around the southern part was a bit steep, but they could maybe build artificial caves. Or perhaps they’d build out on the water, for maximum defense.

“I don’t see why I would be annoyed by that,” Orochimaru commented, confused, and arched an eyebrow. “It sounds like a great idea for a village name. Clever, and just a bit tongue-in-cheek as it tells clients where to look for it. In his situation, it’s what I’d do.”

Why did that give him a slight sense of vertigo?

\---

Politics!:

Water Country only exists as a historical nation now. It has ceased self-governance and has been subsumed into Soup Country. Its hidden village, Kirigakure, has been dissolved and replaced with another. Displaced ninja are given the option to become mercenary ninja, or go to Wave Country where the monk who defeated them is building a place for them to live. A new hidden village: Otogakure, symbolized by a musical note. Some clans do not make a choice, and are slaughtered by rebel forces when the time for them to leave peacefully passes. However some clans do agree to go to help Oto build itself; namely the Hoshigaki, Hozuki, and Kaguya clans -- with one Fujimoto and a handful of Yukis also making the crossing.

Of the Seven Swordsmen, only three decide to go to Oto -- Raiga Kurosuki, Jinin Akebino, and Fuguki Suikazan. It is unknown where the others went, or why they chose not to go.

The village has some legitimacy due to the support of the rebellious monk, and a plurality of the Seven Swordsmen, and the ownership of both of Kiri’s bijuu. But there is still work to do -- not the least of which is actually building the village.

-

Everyone else was getting in on the intellectual property theft, Noburu thought he might as well do so too.


	16. Hidden in the Sound

**Ch 16: Hidden in the Sound**  
  
\---  
  
Mercenary ninja Kurosuki.  
  
Raiga looked out on the shores of Wave as they passed. The ship he road on chugged and belched white steam from her stacks, which would easily be spun into mist if the ship was attacked. Beside him, propped up against the railing, Haruki sat curled up around his bag. The kid had fallen asleep -- and even though it was required of ninja to stay awake for long periods, Raiga let him rest.  
  
Spirits, did Raiga need a rest too.  
  
Footsteps to his left drew his attention away from Wave’s mangrove swamp-ridden shore. A giant of a man stood there, Fuguki Suikazan. Dressed in the dark shirt and pants of the Seven Swordsmen with striped arm warmers and a sleeveless jacket, his most notable features were his tattooed face, long red-orange hair, and the sword on his back. Samehada -- with her woven hilt, skull-pummel, and heavily bandaged blade. Fuguki had mostly recovered from his short coma, and narrowed his eyes at Raiga’s student when Fuguki noticed him.  
  
“The boy is a man by the reckoning of the Hidden Mist,” Fuguki muttered, his shark-like teeth on display. “He should be awake to see this country he’ll have to help tame.”  
  
“He’s my student,” Raiga said back. Despite his exhausted eyes, his hands drifted down to his swords. “And I say he can rest.”  
  
Fuguki looked at Raiga, glanced at the younger man’s hands on his swords and smirked. “You think highly of yourself. Think you can best me, when you struggled so much against our ‘comrades’?”  
  
“I think I’m dangerously close to no longer caring whether or not I win if I fight you, Fuguki.”  
  
Fuguki’s smirk slowly faded away. Fighting an enemy that didn’t care if they won was _dangerous_ , as he’d found out on the front lines. Many of Kousuke’s troops were fueled by hatred of Kiri -- they wanted the ninja to hurt, and didn’t care what it cost them. “Then let’s not let it come to that.” Fuguki put on the airs of a more relaxed scene than that which his presence created, and looked at the shore as Raiga had done. “Have we heard anything about where we’re supposed to go?”  
  
“Jinin said the most likely spot was a spot in the sound where there are three islands which could be settled.” Raiga didn’t let his guard down and didn’t move his hands away from his swords. But he did move to watch the mangroves drift by as the ship began to turn. “But… I don’t think so. My gut tells me that’s not where Noburu would advise Kousuke to begin construction.”  
  
“Your student, the jinchuuriki?” Fuguki huffed. “We’ll have to make sure his loyalty is strong -- being falsely made a missing-nin probably shook his trust.”  
  
“Loyalty to _what_ Fuguki?” Raiga rolled his eyes. “Kiri never had a unifying philosophy. Those Leaf dumbasses scream about their will of fire -- but what did we have? The Mizukage ruled through naked force, and nothing else.”  
  
“To _you_ if nothing else.” Fuguki looked at him with almost a plaintive expression. It rang hollow considering how the taller Swordsman had started the conversation. “Juzo didn’t see reason. And now Kousuke is undoubtedly going to be in charge of whatever settlement happens here. We need someone to advocate for our people, their welfare, and their interests. Your student is a shinobi and a jinchuuriki. He could be that voice for us.”  
  
“He literally has no reason to say a kind word about us.” Raiga looked at Fuguki, and remembered that the man who spoke to him like an equal was eyes caste. And that he was hand caste. “We conscripted him. We made him kill his best friend to live. I certainly didn’t make his time as my student fun. And then we put an experimental seal on him. That we aren’t being told to go _fuck ourselves to death_ is likely as far as his charity goes.”  
  
“...Shit.” Fuguki sighed.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
The sound they had been directed to had a narrow opening to the ocean -- a small peninsula covered in mangrove trees almost at the water line jutted out and left an opening a little under a kilometer wide for ships to enter and exit. Raiga watched as their ship and other, smaller ships passed into the sound in a sort of queue. Misty mangrove forests lined the shores, haunting and beautiful. Scraps of light drifted from between the trees -- either wandering spirits, or a trick of the afternoon sun, Raiga couldn’t tell. The ships sailed into the sound then sharply turned back toward the shore -- they’d hooked around another peninsula inside the sound, where crude docks were set up. Despite the docks being primitive, even large ships were able to find berths there.  
  
What made Raiga take notice was when the anchor for their ship ran the length of its chain without hitting the soundbed when they tried to drop it offshore. It made Fuguki take notice too, who formed hand signs and looked over the side of the ship. “Ninja art: Sonar jutsu.” He lept down to the water and slapped his hand to the water’s surface and waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
He did the jutsu again, and lept back to the ship with a pale face. “The water is deep here,” he said as if it explained his odd actions. “Very deep. And there is something big down there.”  
  
Raiga looked down and considered whether or not Kousuke had the ability to summon. “How big?”  
  
“I would need to dive down to get a better look at it -- for all I know it could be a rock. But it’s about the size of one of Kirigakure’s districts.”  
  
Raiga pondered what that could mean, when Haruki stirred and looked around. “We’re here,” the Swordsman told his students. “We’re going to disembark soon. How are you feeling?”  
  
Haruki stretched and stood, unaware of how Raiga glared at Fuguki in response to the ‘soft’ response to his student. “I thought I felt Noburu’s chakra -- which woke me up. But it’s gone now -- and it was below us for some reason.”  
  
 _Well_ , Raiga considered while he examined the shore and saw only a tent cluster as a sign of civilization, _that’s more than a little ominous_.  
  
\--  
  
Mercenary-nin Ruan.  
  
Suzume spent her time since she arrived at the camp ensuring proper distribution of potable water and food to her fellow Kirigakure residents. Every morning, Kousuke, Noburu, and a few monks from the Water Temple would bring them fresh fish and water from the rivers which fed into the sound, then leave.  
  
Once the Hoshigaki and Hozuki clan members arrived, they were asked to help with the work -- both gathering supplies and whatever task took the group away. She was not involved in that.  
  
However, that changed when Kousuke approached her one night after the work for the day was done. Noburu was with him, and neither looked entirely enthused to be where they were. “You are the foremost medical nin among Kirigakure’s remnants,” the monk said to her and inclined his head. He had some respect for that, it seemed. The monk gestured down to Noburu. “This young man would like to learn to be a medical ninja. I would ask you to take him under your wing in that regard. If it doesn’t impose too much upon you?”  
  
Suzume adjusted her glasses and looked Noburu over. His hair had started to grow back, and he had taken to wearing glasses of his own -- still pretty chubby, but he hadn’t gotten fatter. “Well,” she said, hesitant, “if he has the chakra control for it… we can start him on simple tasks like basic anatomy -- “  
  
“I’ve been reading up on anatomy already,” Noburu commented. “Before… the missing-ninja thing I wanted to be my squad’s medic, so I read up on as much as I could -- but I couldn’t find any medical jutsu, just chakra control exercises.”  
  
Kousuke rested his hand on his fellow jinchuuriki’s shoulder. “Noburu has been working hard helping us all day, so his chakra is a little depleted right now.” The monk looked up at Suzume. “That will make it easier to control, yes?”  
  
“A bit. And while books can teach a lot about anatomy -- we’d really rather you serve a stint practicing and identifying injuries in patients before we give you any medical ninjutsu.” Suzume felt confident enough to be firm on the subject -- Kousuke had sought her out for help, after all. “This is a process to learning medical-nin skills which its best is followed and practiced in the laid out sequence. Medicine is something where we cannot afford to cut corners, because the patients can’t.”  
  
The boy sighed, then nodded. “I understand.”  
  
Kousuke smiled, and walked away. The most feared man in the camp was confident enough to just walk away from her -- if she was a field shinobi, she’d be insulted.  
  
Suzume started Noburu on how to spot chakra exhaustion in himself, given Kousuke’s words. She wanted to make sure he didn’t end up in bed for days which might hamper whatever plan Kousuke had in mind.  
  
They had many veterans from the rebellion in the camp who needed their injuries tended to, and Suzume made sure to run Noburu through a few so he could try and identify their injuries. She noticed some bulging veins around his eyes every so often, and wondered if his blood pressure was being affected by the seal. She made a test of it -- she would take his vitals and compare them to the patients, then to her own under the pretense that she wanted to show Noburu how to do so. In the end, it turned out to be a necessary lesson -- when it was Noburu’s turn to take vitals he consistently struggled to determine blood pressure and heart rate.  
  
After she determined that the boy had neared his limit for the day, she had him go with her down to the beach to clean bloody washcloths for the night shift.  
  
“If…. Could I ask what you have been doing during the day to get yourself chakra exhausted?” Suzume didn’t slow down her cleaning, to make it seem an idle curiosity. But the thought of ‘where were they building the village’ had eaten at her for days.  
  
“Hmm? Oh sure.” Noburu pointed to a section of the shore, where the ground dropped off visibly into the depths of the Sound. “Kousuke and I have been collecting shipwrecks from the ocean floor, bringing them into the sound, and we’re using them to help build the village. So long as they’re totally submerged, the wood’s still good. Metal ships are harder to salvage -- but we’ve found some in good enough shape to use.” He returned to the task of bloody cloths and bandages.  
  
“...How?” Her mind boggled at the idea of it. Entire wrecks moved entirely underwater.  
  
“Kousuke bubbles them, and the two of us use partial bijuu transformation to move them where they’re needed. I’m a better hauler than he is, but he can stay transformed longer.” Noburu shrugged. “The Hoshigaki and Hozuki clans then help us take them apart to build stuff for the village, and either Kousuke bubbles it or I coat it in coral.”  
  
“Oh.” Suzume struggled to imagine what the village would look like once it was done. “Huh. So, there won’t be windows? It’ll be entirely… underwater?”  
  
“Kousuke and Saiken have bubbles strong enough to survive a jinchuuriki bijuudama,” Noburu sighed, frustrated, “which he’s going to use to give us bubble-windows. So really, it’s my contribution which is the weak point. Coral, as it turns out, isn’t very strong. I’m working on strengthening it -- but we might have to redo all my work with actual earth release jutsu.”  
  
“I… don’t know what a bijuudama is -- but it sounds… meaningful.” Suzume looked down at her hands while she cleaned the blood off the bandages. However the blood never seemed to leave her hands. “I know how it feels, like _you’re_ the weak link in the chain.” She put the washed cloths back in their basket to be dried later, and scrubbed her hands in the sound’s water. “But getting frustrated that what you can do doesn’t match what you want to do won’t help solve the problem.”  
  
“Well, if I can’t make my coral work then I can’t contribute to the solution beyond hauling, you see.” Noburu made a pouty face. “I’m a water release person -- and I’m not experienced enough to learn a second element.”  
  
“...Is that why you wanted to start learning medic-nin skills before we even have reliable shelter?” Suzume looked at the boy with an arched brow. “You don’t have to be useful, you know. It’s enough for you to help us as you have.”  
  
“What?” Noburu chuckled. “No, I want to learn medical ninja skills partly because it’s a cool skill set, and partly because people tend to forgive you calling their mothers cheap hookers if you can re-attach their fingers in an emergency.”  
  
She couldn’t help it, she laughed when she heard that. “Yeah… it’s amazing what people can forgive if you know how to keep them alive.” How she wished that wasn’t true.  
  
\--  
  
Mercenary-nin Fujimoto.  
  
He couldn’t find Sayaka anywhere. He couldn’t find Noburu. Raiga-sensei had been asked to meet with the other jounin, and that left Haruki alone to wander the camp. It was full of hand and foot caste -- who could tell from Haruki’s clothes that he had been eyes caste. It was inevitable that they would come to pick a fight with him -- and while he’d never learned the taijutsu applications of boil release, he knew enough ninjutsu to defend himself.  
  
If he needed rescuing, his teammates would think of a worse nickname for him than ‘Princess’, he was sure.  
  
Haruki was confident he could at least fight back against anyone who crossed his path, until he crossed path with the Bubble Monk himself -- Kousuke. The monk stepped out from behind some tents and blocked his path by way of the sheer pants-wetting terror he induced from his presence.  
  
From the sounds of running feet, he’d figured he’d been followed and Kousuke’s arrival had sent them packing, but that didn’t help his surprised-goat condition, what with the monk in arm’s reach.  
  
“You’re the Fujimoto boy, yes?” Kousuke asked, his voice warm and his face in a welcoming smile. “Noburu has told me about you.”  
  
Haruki opened his mouth and a high-pitched squeak came out.  
  
“Oh yes,” the monk nodded. “He told me your clan possesses a nature transformation -- boil release?”  
  
Haruki, frozen in place in front of the man who had defeated Kiri, squeaked again.  
  
“I see.” Kousuke stroked his chin. “I know that your clan primarily used boil release for its taijutsu applications, but you’re a ninjutsu specialist? We have recovered several boilers from sunken ships -- and we’re going to be building more as we get metal. Your boil release would go a long way to helping the village have electricity and heat -- both desperately needed in winter.”  
  
For the third time in a row, Haruki squeaked.  
  
“I know I’m asking a lot -- but Noburu thinks you’re up to it. Would you be willing to help the village get off its feet?”  
  
Haruki was finally able to make a non-squeak sound, though it sounded like a cat in pain.  
  
“Good lad.” Kousuke patted him on the shoulder. “Noburu was right about you. Eager to prove your worth. We’ll get you started as soon as we have enough set up to benefit from your efforts.”  
  
And like that, the monk departed. Haruki stood still for a few minutes, then began to relax. He hadn’t been kicked off into the horizon like the stories said Kousuke could do. And… Noburu had talked to Kousuke -- _the_ Kousuke -- about _Haruki’s_ skills and how they could benefit the village.  
  
On one hand, he was proud that his… friend was a strong word. His teammate. He was proud that his teammates thought highly enough of his skills to recommend him. On the other hand, it really drove home what could have been. The Fujimotos could have earned a lot of respect right away just from doing what they did best.  
  
“Oh, just one more thing.” Kousuke’s voice called out from around the corner as he appeared once more.  
  
Haruki immediately went back to the pose he’d held, frozen, when Kousuke had last seen him.  
  
“Akami Jiang, Noburu’s mother, opened her home to you… when her home is constructed anyway. She’s offered to be your guardian, in light of your family not arriving with you.” Kousuke pointed toward the north. “You’ll find her and Noburu’s tent that way -- look for the banner with the turtle.” After that, he was gone again.  
  
It took longer for Haruki to emerge from his state of frozen fear, but when he did he started off in the direction the monk had advised. He saw lines of people with bowls in their hands as he got to the northern side of the camp -- all going toward a pavilion tent marked with the banner of a turtle. Tables were laid out in front of the tent, with a black cauldron over a fire in between them. A tall, large woman in a hairnet and a chef’s coat directed workers at the tables to chop vegetables and meat, then either apply them to smaller grills or throw them in the pot. If there was any doubt that the woman in charge was Noburu’s mother, then it vanished when Haruki heard her cuss at a worker who’d almost put raw meat next to cooked meat on one of the tables.  
  
They both had such colorful vocabularies. Perhaps it was a family thing.  
  
She glanced at Haruki, and shook one of the workers by the shoulder. “You’re in charge for ten minutes,” she told the guy with a tone that brokered no argument. “Expedite, get this food ready and out to our hungry customers. No mistakes -- we don’t have the luxury of wasting food.” With that, she left the chef’s area and approached him briskly. She was so tall, she took long steps and reached Haruki quickly.  
  
“Um, hi,” the eyes caste boy greeted the foot caste woman. “Um. I’m Haruki -- Noburu’s teammate.”  
  
“I know.” There was no pity in the woman’s eyes, only recognition. “I’m sorry you had to leave your family behind.”  
  
Haruki swallowed the lump that developed in his throat as he heard that and wanted to scream they weren’t dead yet. But, realistically, they were. They’d just delayed it with their choice to defy the daimyo’s banishment. “Thank you. I… realize that me being eyes caste will put you and Noburu at risk if I’m under your roof, and -- “ He was about to argue for her to retract her offer, when she shook her head.  
  
“There aren’t any castes anymore.” She looked at him, her eyes narrowed for a second. “Yes, people will hate those who used to belong to the eyes caste. For good reason. And you’ll have to work hard to make them see you as something other than a monster for the rest of your life.” She smiled, sad. “Like my son will, too. Right now, I don’t see an eyes caste -- I see a young man with no family left, so I’d like to offer you a place in mine. Noburu won’t take it any easier on you, but you won’t be alone.”  
  
“Ah… yes, thank you. That would be nice.” He hadn’t expected her to give him the option to say no. It was refreshing. “I’d like to stay with you, for a while at least. Also because Noburu’s probably behind on training.”  
  
Noburu’s mother -- Akami, Haruki vaguely remembered Kousuke mention -- nodded, and pointed at the tent. “Put your stuff in there, get out of those fancy clothes, and put on an apron then. If you’re going to stay with me, I’m going to teach you how to cook. Do you know how to peel potatoes?”  
  
“Um… no.”  
  
“Then I hope you’re as good with knives as you are with fashion.”  
  
While Haruki followed instructions and changed into something more suitable for work -- he wondered if he’d see Sayaka in the line of people coming to get food. She’d never let him live it down if she caught him in an apron.  
  
\---  
  
So -- Noburu’s plan for power generation in Otogakure. Boil seawater into steam to turn turbines, use the water vapour produced to have a reliable source of potable water, and keep the equipment salt-free by having someone run chakra through it. We know from the first movie that if you run chakra through metals, it can get rid of growths on it.  
  
Also if you’re curious -- the object Fuguki saw down in the sound was two thousand two hundred and sixty-four feet below the surface. The sound gets pretty fucking deep, but in a reverse mountain sort of way. The super-depth gravitates towards ‘peaks’.


	17. Beneath the Waves

**Ch 17: Beneath the Waves**  
  
\---  
  
Isobu  
  
When Noburu relinquished control during his escapades underwater, it was like balm on wounds Isobu didn’t know he had. He could feel the water on his skin again -- not just feeling it from Noburu’s experience. The Seal of Hooks kept him from fully manifesting his form, but he could partially manifest his carapace and tails to give Noburu’s body the strength to push Saiken’s bubbles.  
  
While Saiken and Isobu brought the materials to build the new ninja village -- one which would honor them and their siblings, per Kousuke -- the two jinchuuriki talked shop.  
  
“We have to do this in a way that doesn’t pollute the sound,” Noburu’s mind chatted with Kousukes through the bond of the bijuu. “We’re going to be creating a lot of reef just from our construction -- and I’m not going to disrespect Isobu by seeing it bleached and dead in ten years.”  
  
“Thank you for that,” the turtle spirit rumbled and noted an elder Kaizoku kraken’s lair as they passed. That would provide a lot of food for the humans and make room for new krakens to move in. “Waste can be processed into fertilizer for the seabed, particularly if you allow kelp to grow near the village.”  
  
Kousuke mentally nodded. “Thank you for your wisdom, Isobu.” The monk considered, and spoke again his tone less sure. “Though… kelp forests would help the village remain hidden, but it would also get into the propellers of ships.”  
  
“Then we need to create the port a little removed from the kelpy area,” Noburu commented, He twitched a bit, in his mind-space. “Hopefully there’s no kelpie area. That would be downright unpleasant.”  
  
Isobu forwarded a mental image from Noburu of a corpse-like horse which dragged men down into the waters to Saiken, who passed it along to Kousuke.  
  
The monk shuddered. “What a nasty way to die.”  
  
“Yeah. I was so excited to finally get to live a life in Scotland, and….” Noburu shrugged. “Death by drowning. I’m glad I died before they started eating me, though.”  
  
“I know of no such creatures in the seas,” Isobu rumbled. While he swam through the physical seas, his chakra seeped out and let him notice each small creature in his proximity. He had swam the whole length of the oceans before that damned Senju got involved. “Saiken, do any linger in your swamps?”  
  
“I don’t got your sensory powers, yeah?” The slug gurgled defensively. “I ain’t seen ‘em, it don’t mean they aren’t there.”  
  
“So your fascination with _art_ has seen you neglect your duties, has it?”  
  
“Oy, oy! Just don’t go riding no swamp horse! Leave my art outta it, yeah?”  
  
“Please don’t argue,” Kousuke implored the spirits. “We will keep a watch out for anything like that, but back to the issue of kelp?”  
  
Isobu grunted, and bubbles rose from him in the physical world. “Kelp grows in shallower water than that which the village is situated at -- simply keep the area clear.”  
  
“Depending on the species, it might be useful to farm it.” Noburu shrugged again in the mindspace of the bijuu. “Some are good for making things like toothpaste or shampoo, others you can make pharmaceuticals out. Also those wraps you put on sushi rolls, I guess.”  
  
Kousuke chuckled. “Maybe the village will become famous for its sushi, wouldn’t that be a nice break from renown via murder?” The monk and Noburu sat in silence for a moment while their bijuu hauled the bubbles through the sea. “The jounin want to know who they answer to.”  
  
“You,” Noburu said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
“I’m not a ninja.” Kousuke’s tone was also as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
“And I’m a genin. I know like, five jutsu. I’ve never even been on a mission before.” Noburu crossed his arms, a defensive tinge to his thoughts. “I’ve been a jinchuuriki for two months and change -- and I’m just starting to really learn medical stuff. I haven’t even started on any byakugan utilization yet -- there’s too much catching up I have to do.” He scoffed, disgusted with himself. “I can’t even beat Princess in a taijutsu match.”  
  
Kousuke nodded, and conceded the point. “If I’m in charge -- they’ll see this as a prison. As confinement for them. That will definitely breed resentment, and then all this work will be undone. They need someone with the will to forge a community. Someone with a plan.”  
  
“...If he wasn’t already stressed the fuck out -- I’d say Raiga would be your guy, then.”  
  
Isobu rumbled in the physical world. “That man has consistently disrespected you, and by extension me. And you disrespected him in turn.”  
  
“I disrespected him because he was too much of a coward to go for what he really wanted,” Noburu commented, conversational. That surprised everyone except Saiken -- who had never paid much attention to the man. “I saw him in the future as a bitter shell of himself who had let his skills atrophy as he spent time not fighting equal opponents. What he craves, deep in his heart, is camaraderie -- a sense of community and family. In the original timeline -- that’s why he became a missing ninja -- Kiri didn’t offer what he wanted, so he left.”  
  
Isobu flitted between Noburu’s thoughts and began to see what Noburu saw. It was an odd thing -- the Seal of Hooks’ barbaric design let the two communicate as if they were two parts of one whole. Perhaps because they’d expected Isobu to devour Noburu’s mind right away.  
  
“You… want someone you consider a coward to lead the Kiri ninja?” Kousuke, without the insight Isobu had, was confused.  
  
Noburu shook his head. “Are you familiar with something called ‘what you are in the dark’?”  
  
Kousuke nodded.  
  
“When Raiga was in the dark, he killed the cancer which had poisoned Kirigakure for decades. No one will ever find Ryukotsusei’s body. If he had helped Ryukotsusei, he would enable all the evil that man would do from then on. He chose to be a man, not a monster.”  
  
Kousuke’s surprise spilled over into Saiken, and then into Isobu through their bond. “...Well then. That’s something entirely different.”  
  
\--  
  
Third Hokage.  
  
 _It is as Noburu said_ , Sarutobi thought to himself as he looked at where the alleged corpse of Madara Uchiha had been mere seconds before. In his hand, the Hokage held a kunai with a chakra disruption tag hanging from the ring pommel. A quick jab to Madara’s corpse, and it revealed itself to be a shadow clone.  
  
A familiar figure watched as the cloud from the clone dispersed. Owl, without his mask, watched as the deception was revealed. Fugaku Uchiha, heir to the Uchiha clan head, Anbu black-ops medic-nin, and one of Sarutobi’s bodyguards. His hair was greyer than most of the Uchiha clan heads in the past, and his jaw noticeably squarer.  
  
“Lord Hokage,” the Uchiha said after the dust had settled. “No one in the Uchiha clan knew about this -- I swear it.”  
  
“I believe you, but I have to verify that with an investigation.” Sarutobi hid the kunai away in his robes and pulled the stone lid of Madara’s casket closed. “The First Hokage’s body is also missing.” Sarutobi watch surprise and horror bloom on Fugaku’s face, his own a visage of steel as he looked for any sign of duplicity. “Yet the Second’s remains where it is. We cannot rule out that whoever robbed his brother’s grave will come back for the set.”  
  
Spirits, did he hope Noburu’s words about Madara having stiched the First Hokage’s face to his nipple were exaggerations. But if it wasn’t… the man was mad. A deranged animal which had to be put down.  
  
“I’m certain your investigation will confirm you have nothing to fear. The Uchiha remain loyal to Konoha, and Fire Country.”  
  
“That’s encouraging to hear.” Sarutobi puffed his pipe and started toward the door out of the tomb. “Give my regards to your wife, and be ready in case something happens regarding the fox.”  
  
“Lord Hokage?”  
  
Sarutobi stopped and looked back to Fugaku’s confused expression. “Today is the day,” he reminded his bodyguard. “The fox will be transferred later tonight. And your genjutsu skills, along with your medical talents, will be helpful in casse the worst comes to pass.”  
  
He turned back, and left the tomb then. Sarutobi hadn’t known Mito well. She had been his first sensei’s wife, and his second sensei’s sister-in-law. Her time had been consumed with mothering the Senju children -- even as they died out around her. She had outlived her husband, her children, and some of her grandchildren. That entire time, she never made a fuss about the fox, or how the village treated her for it. But since he’d talked to Noburu, Sarutobi had made inquiries.  
  
After the First Hokage had died, Mito had been harassed and assaulted until the Second Hokage had brutally punished those responsible. Tobirama’s legendary vicious temper partially explained why he and Ryukotsusei had once been friends, after all.  
  
That probably said something about how Tobirama-sensei would have ruled long-term if he hadn’t been viciously pounded to death by the Kinkau Force. Sarutobi forcibly stopped that line of thought as he envisioned an alternative meaning to it. His sensei would be irate that Sarutobi’s perversion had twisted the man’s death into that, even if only for a moment.  
  
 _I’m starting to think like Jiraiya_ , Sarutobi thought to himself and dragged his hand across his face. He pulled himself back to his original train of thought. Kushina, the new jinchuuriki, was likely to face much of the same prejudices that Mito had endured. And Noburu had ominously said she would only have twelve years left to live.  
  
Noburu had challenged him to change the future -- Hiruzen, the Professor and God of Shinobi, would meet that challenge. He swore it to himself.  
  
Which was why he called Orochimaru to his office as soon as he returned to the tower. He allowed the snake Sannin to be visibly irritated with him when Orochimaru arrived.  
  
“Mito is not stable -- unless you’ve summoned me to tell me Tsunade has returned, _could this not wait a day_?” Orochimaru didn’t tend to shout, he hissed venomously when upset. Which, from the signs of a long shift in the hospital, Sarutobi guessed him to be.  
  
It had been unfair for Hiruzen to ask Orochimaru to fill in for Tsundae, he realized in that moment. Orochimaru had skill with medicine, but not in treating patients. The man didn’t have the gift with saving lives that Tsunade had.  
  
“It concerns Kushina, the next nine-tails jinchuuriki.” Hiruzen puffed on his pipe, unconcerned with the exasperated glare Orochimaru gave him. “I worry for her welfare after she becomes host to the fox.”  
  
Orochimaru put on the front of calm understanding. “Yes, that is a serious concern, but you know when it might have been appropriate to discuss it? _Any point in the past month_ , and not the day the transfer is supposed to take place.”  
  
“I had work to do.” Hiruzen produced a scroll from his desk’s drawers and offered it to Orochimaru. “I put together a team I want you to take with you when you visit Otogakure.”  
  
Orochimaru calmed down a bit and took the scroll. “How does this relate to Kushina Uzumaki in any… way….” Orochimaru opened the scroll and read its contents. While he did his words slowed down to a total stop. Slitted yellow eyes snapped to Hiruzens and for a moment, Hiruzen was afraid Orochimaru would jump at him -- such was the man’s anger. “You’re giving me a genin team. You’re giving me a genin team on the day Jiraiya and I have to keep Mito alive for a _six-hour sealing_. You’re giving me a genin team when we could all be dead at any moment because I’m not there to keep Mito alive right now.”  
  
“I am.” Hiruzen braced for the worst. He had legitimately taken great pains to find genin who had lost their senseis to the last war, or hadn’t been a good fit for their original teams. Orochimaru seemed to have a gift with the otherwise unwanted people of the village, and Hiruzen wanted to play into that. Though, perhaps he had overestimated how much he could put onto the man’s shoulders in one day.  
  
Orochimaru nodded. “I see, Sarutobi-sensei. I see what you’re doing.” His tone was light, but Hiruzen could tell that Orochimaru had gone beyond merely upset and was furious. The snake Sannin rolled the scroll up, put it into his jounin vest, and bit his thumb. A moment later, the same red messenger snake which had delivered news to Hiruzen was wrapped around Orochimaru’s arm. “Please tell Lady Biwako that the Hokage has broken her embargo on lesbian pornographic books again.”  
  
Betrayal and visceral terror filled Hiruzen as Orochimaru’s messenger poofed into smoke. “But I haven’t….” His blood ran cold as he waited for Biwako to respond to Orochimaru’s messenger.  
  
“See, you’ve betrayed Lady Biwako’s trust by peeping with Jiraiya so often that it doesn’t really matter.” Orochimaru smiled, upbeat, and turned to leave the office. “I forgive you for pulling this today, Sarutobi-sensei.”  
  
 **“Hiruzen!”** A woman’s voice shouted with such force that the birds fled the trees outside.  
  
“This is forgiveness?” Hiruzen said as he heard stomping feet approach his office.  
  
“I’m told that forgiveness sounds like screaming and then silence,” Orochimaru commented with a smile. “I have an operation to oversee. Your wife will be by to visit shortly.”  
  
When the door closed there was nothing for Hiruzen to do other than wait for his wife, and the thrashing to ensue. She’d only see his attempts to escape as further proof.  
  
\--  
  
Mercenary-nin Kanzaki.  
  
Sayaka and her mother weren’t on speaking terms. They hadn’t been for days. She’d been getting ready for the boat to Wave when her mother called her into the living room. That was the last Sayaka remembered before she woke up on a boat bound for Neck Country.  
  
Her mother had used a neck chop and drugs to keep Sayaka asleep for days on end while they sailed out of Kiri. Sayaka managed to weedle out of her mother that she’d only run out of the drugs when some spoiled due to the cabin’s humidity. Otherwise she would have been asleep until they’d arrived in Neck Country.  
  
“I couldn’t bare the thought of living in a prison ruled by… that demon,” her mother had said and clutched at her prosthetic. “We couldn’t go there. Neck Country was the only other available ship.”  
  
There were a whole host of problems with that. So many that Sayaka struggled to put them into order because -- _her mother_ had attacked and drugged her, and she was only awake because it hadn’t gone to plan.  
  
If it was anyone but her mother -- they’d be dead. No ifs, buts, or maybes -- dead. In pieces, all over the floor.  
  
Because it was her mother though, Sayaka just refused to talk to her. She kept her back to a wall as often as possible so that her mother wouldn’t get another chance, and waited.  
  
“Sayaka,” her mother croaked from the cabin’s bed as Sayaka returned from the bathroom. “It’ll be better in Neck Country -- you’ll see.”  
  
That, on top of everything else, made Sayaka snap. “No. You will see, but I’ll be getting on a boat to Wave. You want to live in Neck -- you can. But I want to be a ninja -- and the rest of my team probably went to Wave.”  
  
Her mother looked devastated, and it hurt Sayaka to see it. She thrust her prosthetic arm forward and gestured at it. “Look at what that creature did to me. You think everyone there isn’t getting this same treatment?!”  
  
“He’s a man, not a monster! At least… at least I think he is.” Sayaka didn’t want to shout at her mother, it took away her desire to fight. “But Raiga-sensei knows what he is better than either of us -- and he wanted to go to Wave. Maybe Kousuke will take my arm, and you’ll be right -- or maybe I can finally serve as a ninja for a place that doesn’t lie to my face all the time!” She still wore her Kirigakure headband, and fixed that in a fit of rage. The bandana and metal plate flew and hit the wall, then landed on the floor with a clang.  
  
Sayaka’s mother was confused, it showed in her face. She stood and approached Sayaka who promptly unsheathed her sword to keep her mother at arm’s reach. “Sayaka -- the village never lied to you….”  
  
“No, it did! It told us our enemy was a pack of demons, led by a bigger demon!” Tears gathered in her eyes as she remembered the faces of rebels her traps had killed. She’d been proud to liberate them from Kousuke’s demonic influence. All that pride turned to ash. “But they were people! People who wanted to be free, and we were killing them!”  
  
“Sayaka, sweetie -- Kousuke was controlling them….“  
  
“No he wasn’t! Because he’s not a demon!” She could already tell by the irritated look on her mother’s face that she wouldn’t believe Sayaka about what Haruki had told her. “That’s a stupid superstition, and I believed it until they put me on a team with the three-tails host.”  
  
Immediately, her mother took a step back. Horror bloomed on her face, then anger. “Sayaka, I’m so sorry. If I had known -- “  
  
“If you had known, I’d still be that girl who got people killed and was happy that they were dead!” Sayaka kept her sword out and returned to her spot on the wall. “But I’m not. I know better now. And I’m going to Wave, to _be_ better.”  
  
“And how are you going to be better, huh?!” Sayaka’s mother snapped, her face red with fury. “There’s no castes there, there’s no way to know how to treat people! Kousuke isn’t going to sort people out into what they’re good at -- you’ll have nobility pushing brooms, and janitors making important decisions!”  
  
“That’s still better than how Kiri did things.” Sayaka pulled her legs up to her chest, partially because she needed a hug, and partially in case she needed to roll to one side to evade an attack. Though, she’d never known her mother to care about castes before. Perhaps she just hadn’t seen how her mother treated foot caste people when she wasn’t around. “I’m going to Wave. You can stay in Neck and do whatever you want, I don’t care anymore.”  
  
But she did. Even if she didn’t look like it, under the surface she really wanted her mom to see reason and come with her. She wanted it, but she knew it wasn’t going to happen from the way her mother looked at her. Outside, Sayaka was calm, stoic like a shinobi should be. Inside, it was a totally different story.  
  
The rest of the trip was spent in silence.  
  
\---  
  
I forgot to do this last time, so here's Fuguki's cast entry!  
  
 **Cast:**  
Fuguki Suikazan: One of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of Kirigakure. A jounin who used his hair as a weapon an extra limb, as the Suikazans are known for. He wields the monstrous sword Samehada which feeds on chakra. An information-warfare specialist, he is just as terrifying in an office as on the battlefield. He spent the tail end of the rebellion in a coma after a fight with Kousuke.


	18. From dark, light / From silence, music

**Ch 18: From dark, light / From silence, music**  
  
\---  
  
Legendary Sannin Orochimaru  
  
“Of all the complete idiotic, utterly imbecilic, outright insulting….” Orochimaru muttered as he formed medical chakra and used it to stabilize patient one due to a shift in the boiling red chakra bridge between her and patient zero. The two of them were in paired hospital beds, next to each other and covered in bandages which bore the repeating sealing mantra: Shed Hate, Gain Love.  
  
It was Jiraiya’s idea, and it honestly worked great at keeping the nine-tails’ chakra from going anywhere but where the Sannin wanted.  
  
“You’re still distracted by what Sarutobi-sensei dropped on you?” Jiraiya asked, surprised. “It’s been hours. Did it really piss you off that much?”  
  
“How long is he going to keep testing me?” Orochimaru snapped, his face a vision of outrage as he kept little Kushina alive enough until he could transition to Mito. “How many false assassination attempts, how many impossible tasks, and how many _bizarre, out of nowhere_ curves is he going to throw?” Orochimaru’s breath was uneven for a moment before he forced himself to calm down and glance at Kushina. His student, since Sarutobi-sensei decreed it so.  
  
“Gee,” Jiraiya said from his place at the sealing apogee. Around him, boiling red chakra emerged from patient zero and transitioned to patient one through a tunnel created by paper tags marked with the symbol for karma. “It sucks so much to have Sarutobi-sensei’s direct attention so often. I’m so sorry.” His sarcasm almost bent the karma tags he used to repel the nine-tails’ chakra.  
  
“His direct attention is driving me to hate him,” Orochimaru muttered, and turned to focus on Mito. When Jiraiya didn’t say anything, Orochimaru looked over and saw the toad Sannin looking at him in confusion. “I can’t just… be myself around him anymore. I have to be on guard all the time for some random test, or some new challenge he’s invented for me. I can’t just enjoy his company, or trust his word at face value like you can.”  
  
The toad sage nodded. “I get it. You want me to talk to him while you’re visiting Oto?”  
  
“I will talk to him myself, when I come back. Some distance will help me figure out what to say.” He had wanted to distance himself from Sarutobi-sensei for a while. If not out of the country, then perhaps he’d try and infiltrate Root. Maybe get Danzo to give him a reason to put the old dog down. That thought made him smile, which he turned on Jiraiya. “Thank you for the offer, though.”  
  
“Hey, we’re a team. You’d do the same for me, yeah?”  
  
“Of course.” They worked in silence for a while more. Orochimaru would pass between the two jinchuuriki and see that they remained alive through the transfer. It was in the second half of the operation that Orochimaru began to notice something odd with the nine-tails’ chakra. It had boiled in terrible anger when they started, but as he watched it, the malefic red energy began to calm, and even out.  
  
“I see it too,” Jiraiya commented as he warily looked at the stream which passed over him. “Something’s happening. I can feel… something from the chakra as it leaves Mito’s seal.”  
  
“Is this some ploy by the fox?” Orochimaru focused on the torii-gate seal Mito had on her abdomen, in a search for any sign of structural failure.  
  
“I don’t think so…. It doesn’t feel like the fox at all.” Jiraiya began to visibly sweat, his focus had shifted to probing closer to the red stream of chakra. “The fox is all anger and hate. But this is… calm, soothing. Serene, even. It feels like tiny bits of other chakra mixed in with….” Jiraiya’s eyes snapped open wide. “Make sure Mito isn’t trying to go with the fox into Kushina.”  
  
Orochimaru channeled a bit of his chakra into the sealing bandages wrapped around Mito’s torso, and glanced at the monitor for her brain activity. It had indicated a deep dreaming state, and hadn’t changed. “I’m not seeing anything on my end. If she’s trying to seal herself with the fox, either I can’t stop her or it’s completely unintentional.”  
  
“Damnit.” Jiraiya made a pained face. “There wasn’t anything in the seal’s key about this… I’m going to risk interrupting the stream, just to see if that’s what we’re dealing with.”  
  
Orochimaru nodded and quickly grabbed a roll of the sealing bandages. In moments, one of Jiraiya’s hands was wrapped up, and the toad sage dared touch the stream of the fox’s chakra. He watched Jiraiya for any signs that rescue was needed, suddenly alone in the operating theater.  
  
“I sense,” Jiraiya muttered with his eyes closed, “Mito. And someone else. Two people -- they’re… singing.” He opened his eyes, his face the picture of confusion. “They’re singing to the nine-tails, and it’s asleep.”  
  
“What.” Orochimaru had been prepared for any number of responses, but not that. It boggled his mind to think about -- the nine-tails’ rage could be calmed with _music_? “What… what are they singing _about_?”  
  
“Something, something, high roads and low roads, and a place called Scotland?” Jiraiya closed his eyes and focused on the input from the bijuu chakra. “It’s… a sad song. There is pain in it. Pain and loneliness. Mito sounds like she’s about to cry.”  
  
The snake Sannin uncovered the elder jinchuuriki’s eyes and noted a bit of moisture there. “Are they interfering with the sealing?”  
  
“Not really,” Jiraiya muttered. “With the fox asleep, the chakra is moving faster -- it can’t fight the sealing. We might just shave an hour or two off if they keep it asleep.”  
  
Something was amiss, Orochimaru’s instincts told him so. “Try and determine anything about the additional chakras in there with Mito.” Could she be being visited by the spirit of the First? Someone from her past?  
  
“One of them’s easily Kage-class, they’re not even trying to hide.” Jiraiya frowned. “The other is… slippery. I try to get a read on it, and it changes.”  
  
Something was definitely happening, but they hadn’t the means to intercede further. If Tsunade had been there, Orochimaru could trust her to watch the jinchuuriki while he called in assistance. Had the Yamanaka shinobi not taken advantage of their vacation days, they could be activated to find out additional information.  
  
“Really wish Sarutobi-sensei, the man who allegedly knows all the hidden techniques in the village, could be here right now.” Jiraiya cracked open an eye. “Shame he’s being kicked about the head by his wife for some unknown reason.”  
  
“I regret nothing,” Orochimaru responded.  
  
\--  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke.  
  
 _“It’s the terror of knowing what this world is about… watching some good friends scream: Let me out!”_  
  
Kousuke watched as a bubble containing a strange black metal and plastic rectangular device passed by and played music through the water. The device was a clone Noburu had made, which then used the transformation technique to become a ‘boom box’. The song was unlike anything he’d heard before, but the strong beats reverberated through the deep water. He could see the pulses ripple far away.  
  
All around the village under construction, Kousuke’s bubbles floated. Inside them was a viscous fluid that shined light as bright as a flashbang -- incredibly useful for Kousuke’s fellow monks, the Hoshigaki and Hozuki shinobi who helped them, and for the people high above. None of whom had bijuu boosting their senses to see in the dark. The light was so bright, due to how many were there, that Kousuke imagined people on the surface were finally able to see the village as it was constructed.  
  
Beside him, in a bubble fused to Kousuke’s own, sat Raiga Kurosuki -- the one most likely to lead the ninjas. If he didn’t have an emotional breakdown.  
  
Always a tall order for ninja.  
  
“It’s… entirely underwater?” Raiga asked as he rubbed his eyes then looked at the village under construction again.  
  
“Yes and no.” Kousuke answered, and waggled his hand as Noburu would to indicate complications. “The vast majority of it will be underwater. But the Wave Temple we’re going to build for monks will be above the water, along with some structures to easily get clients down to the village to hire your ninja.”  
  
“How are you going to get air in the buildings?” He watched as three Hozuki in the shape of water moved the bow section of a split ship into position as the cap on a tower, and Noburu sealed it over with coral.  
  
“Once we have all the big structures completed, we will dig tunnels into the side of the cliff up to the shore and pump the water out. We’ll rely on those tunnels for airflow until we can transplant some trees down into the dome.” Kousuke indicated the enormous dome beneath the village, which had been grown over the deepest part of the seabed. “That will be our agricultural area -- after I teach others how to make these kind of bubbles.” He demonstrated, and blew a bubble the size of his fist, which began to fill with a fluid that emitted bright light. “Past jinchuuriki of the six-tails have noted that algae will grow on these bubbles if left underwater for too long. Noburu suspects that we can use them as an artificial source of sunlight.” He released the bubble into the water through his personal bubble, and watched it drift off with the currents.  
  
 _“Cause love’s such an old-fashioned word. And love dares you care for the people on the edge of the night…”_  
  
“The music is… surprisingly nice.” Raiga looked as the half-ship from earlier began to bloom with specific coral species. Elkhorn, encrusting, and digitate corals from what Kousuke could immediately identify. “All this reef will make for good fishing.”  
  
“And splendid, peaceful scenery.” Kousuke reclined against the back of his bubble, and tilted his hat down as if he were about to nap. “Do you know what we monks do with our chakra?”  
  
“Um, no.”  
  
The monk smirked, he could just imagine Raiga’s confused expression. “We dance on the surface of water on the tips of our toes. Elaborate dances where we’re weighed down with heavy disks. We play instruments in storms and near waterfalls until we can make our music heard over the noise of nature. Through the expression and perfection of art, we develop the skills which give us great skill in battle and something to entertain guests with.” Kousuke tilted his head, his hat still in place, to Raiga’s direction. “Noburu tells me that not many of your ninja have… hobbies, he calls them. My monks and I would offer to teach you these skills. Something for you Kiri ninja to… find expression. It will likely take a long time before Otogakure is in a fit state to begin advertising to people about accepting missions, you see. Something to kill the time.”  
  
Raiga was quiet. Kousuke could see the young man’s figure shift to look at the village below. It was easy to believe that it was almost ready -- but they still had years of work ahead of them. They would soon have living space for the people on the shore -- but that was not the same as having a fully realized village.  
  
“When I was young -- there was a type of instrument they played in a holy place,” Raiga started, soft. “It was all pipes, and it had a deep, sorrowful tone when played.”  
  
“A pipe organ,” Kousuke said. His smirk became a smile. “An immigrant from the southern continents.”  
  
“Yeah. Could… I learn how to play it?”  
  
“Well, a couple clones could easily transform into one until we get a real one built.” The monk scratched his chin. “But yes, you could learn.” Kousuke tilted his hat, and looked around. “Hmm. Perhaps we could place the chamber for musical performances there.” He pointed in a gulf of deep water between the village’s structure and the dome below. “However there’s certainly room for more verticality if that’s your preference.”  
  
“I don’t have a preference.” Raiga steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on his crossed legs, with his chin on his hands. “We’re going to have a lot of ninja who won’t want to do something as silly as ‘art’ to stay in shape.”  
  
“They are free to leave, or let their skills wither. Winter on the Kaizoku is not kind to anyone, as they will find out.” Kousuke glanced out in the direction of the open sea. “Especially not with Kaizoku krakens out and about.”  
  
“Oh.” Raiga’s expression lit up with a sudden wave of realization. “That’s where all these wrecks came from!”  
  
“Mhm. In the winter, when the whales all leave, the krakens still have to eat.”  
  
\--  
  
Mother Jiang.  
  
Akami had her hands full with two boys in the tent. Haruki and Noburu were always sniping at each other, cracking jokes, and getting into scraps. It had taken her a while to learn that none of their ‘fights’ were serious, and often they were just sparring.  
  
Noburu worked almost as much as she did, so it was nice to see him be a kid again. She had unexpected help in the form of one of Kiri’s medical ninja -- the woman who had sealed the turtle spirit in Noburu to begin with. Suzume Ruan, an eyes caste woman.  
  
At first, Akami had been willing to beat her with a ladle for suggesting the help, but she saw how remorseful and tired the medic-nin was. It made her remember -- everyone in the village leadership had been the Mizukage’s captive. He could have killed them all, and no one would have been able to do anything about it. It was enough to give Suzume a chance.  
  
It was nice to have another woman to speak to, converse with, and decompress from the horrors they’d endured. Arata’s wife had never been very friendly.  
  
And Suzume was handy in a kitchen, with her medical ninjutsu, even if she turned it into a lesson. Akami watched Suzume’s hand, slightly glowing, pass over a cut of salmon she had cut. “I’m counting four bones in this,” she told Noburu, and showed him some handsigns. “Boar, bird, horse -- and focus the chakra into your dominant hand. Tell me where those four bones are, and then pinch them out with the jutsu.” Suzume stepped back and let Noburu test the jutsu on the fish.  
  
While Noburu worked on the bones in the fish on the background, Suzume and Akami talked. “I got this recipe from a sailor from Sea Country,” Akami told her as she worked the other ingredients in her wok. “They don’t use the same cooking stuff we do, so I’m improvising a little bit.”  
  
“It looks like this requires a lot of butter, both in the filling and in that… puffed pastry?”  
  
“Puff,” Akami corrected with her wooden spatula. “Because it puffs up when you cook it.” The large chef set some seasoning shakers down on the folding table next to Suzume, while she went back to the fillings. “When you’re done with the salmon, cut off four seventeen centimeter sections and season them, would you?”  
  
“Of course.” Suzume took the shakers aside and watched Akami’s wok. “Is the spinach supposed to… wilt like that?”  
  
“I was told so, but now I’m not sure.” Akami smiled awkwardly. “I’ve never actually done this before. But it’s a special day today, I decided I wanted to be brave and try something new.”  
  
“Oh? What’s the occasion?” Suzume, despite the bags under her eyes, had enough pep to be curious. It somehow didn’t distract her from Noburu’s lesson as she deftly showed him the correct pinching proceedure.  
  
“It’s someone’s birthday today.” It made Akami a little sad to admit. They’d had plans for the day -- a restaurant in Kiri which likely had been burned down since. She’d saved up for ice cream and found adorable bug-themed wrapping paper for the presents. She and Noburu had plotted together about it before… before the worst had happened. “And, even if we don’t have a home yet -- I wanted to celebrate this.”  
  
“Um,” Noburu cut in awkwardly. “I think I have this stuck.”  
  
Suzume helped the trainee medic then looked at Akami with a confused expression. “Shouldn’t he be… you know, somewhere else while you get this ready?”  
  
Akami shook her head. “If you weren’t here to help -- he’d be helping me right now. I can’t do it all myself with… this to work with.” She indicated the pavilion tent and checked the white rice to ensure its quality. “So thank you for being here.”  
  
“Oh, I… no problem.” Suzume shook her head to clear out whatever emotion had gotten in the way. “I’m glad to help. So… did you get the chance to see the village today?”  
  
“Under the water, yeah?” Akami allowed herself to cook on autopilot to make a pleased expression at Suzume. “We’re going to have fresh fish every day, it looks like. And I love that. Truly I do. Maybe even…” Akami looked around, as if there were people out to overhear such information. “Fresh octopus?”  
  
“There _is_ a kraken offshore,” Noburu commented, then focused on his work.  
  
“Oh that would be magnificent. How many chefs can say they cooked with _kraken_?”  
  
“There was a place in Kiri that had something they _claimed_ was kraken meat,” Suzume commented as she set the seasoned salmon cuts beside Akami. “I think it was just giant octopus, myself. But given krakens… is there a difference in taste?”  
  
“Oh, don’t wound me like that.” Akami mimed being stabbed in the chest. “The thought of kraken meat being unremarkable in taste hurts me so.”  
  
After the cooking had finished, Suzume and Akami set the table. Four cross-hatched pastry dishes filled per the recipe rested on four small plates with rice side dishes and an assortment of sauces for extra seasoning. Before they sat down, however, Akami unfolded a small table and set it against the back wall of the tent.  
  
Noburu went to her bags, and brought her several small things she’d pre-wrapped in that bug-themed wrapping paper. While she arranged them, he ran off to grab a framed photograph from her bags.  
  
When she made a fifth bowl of rice, it looked like Haruki and Suzume had figured out something was not as they’d expected. Akami placed the bowl of rice in front of the framed photo and kneeled next to Noburu, who had been in the position already. Their guest and Haruki soon joined them.  
  
“Happy birthday, Yuuko,” Akami said to the photo. Even with it being just a picture, it was hard to meet the girl’s eyes. She looked so happy in the picture -- showing the camera a rhinoceros beetle she’d found, sticks in her cream-colored hair. Happy and bright.  
  
The Jiangs and their guests clapped their hands together and prayed for the departed girl. Dinner afterward was a tad awkward but lightened up after the boys started to snipe at each other again.  
  
She’d unfortunately overcooked the salmon.  
  
\---  
  
Mito didn't take the news that Hashirama wasn't going to be there in the afterlife very well. See -- the thing about reincarnations is that there is no _after_ life, just _new_ life. Hashirama is just a face that Asura wore for a few decades, same for Madara and Indra. That just makes the face-nipple thing worse, really. Songs in this chapter are Loch Lomond and Under Pressure.  
  
It's the story canon that the 'Europe' equivalent continent is to the south of the Shinobi continent and sub-continent.


	19. Jounin

**Ch 19: Jounin**  
  
\---  
  
Mercenary-nin Kurosuki.  
  
“...and then the Italian shadow government decided they could defeat the Americans without me, so they sent their Catholic assassins to silence me,” Noburu said conversationally while they did their morning stretches.  
  
Kousuke had asked Raiga and Haruki to join in their morning stretches and training. A first step to having more ninja join in as they saw how Kousuke didn’t savagely murder the two of them. Noburu had shared some of his past life experiences with the three of them. It didn’t achieve the serenity Kousuke appeared to desire, but it took their minds off the unfamiliar routine.  
  
Doing stretches on the surface of water while weighed down with heavy disks and no distractions would lead to overthinking.  
  
“But I thought you said the Italians were only really good at cooking,” Haruki asked, confused.  
  
“They are, which is why it was a bad idea for them. They hadn’t won a war since Rome at that point, it was really kind of sad.” Noburu nodded, his face serious. “But the Catholics know how to murder people good n’ proper, so I didn’t last a week.”  
  
“What happened after that?” Haruki struggled a bit with stretching his arm as fully required, so Kousuke used his staff to help the boy get in the correct position.  
  
“...I was kinda dead, so hell if I know.” Noburu shrugged. “I spent forty-nine days in Nirvana’s Lobby while they dismantled my old self and found me a spot in another life.”  
  
“It takes them a month and change to do that?”  
  
“Well yeah, they have to make sure you don’t bring any soul powers into your next life.” Noburu slowly transitioned to the next stretch, and Haruki and Raiga followed. “Do you know how ridiculous it could be if I could bring shit like my zanpakutou with me into another life?” He sighed wistfully. “I miss Osenmaru.”  
  
“Isn’t desire one of the things one must rid themselves of to achieve spiritual perfection?” Kousuke commented, and used his staff to correct Raiga’s footing.  
  
“Well yeah, but I stopped with that after I told the universe to go find itself in the Alps.” The chubby genin snickered with a malicious smile. “And they can’t stop me.”  
  
Raiga had listened for a long time, and at last he took the chance to speak. “Why did you reject being a buddha though? Isn’t that a good thing?”  
  
Noburu shrugged. “Fundamental disagreements. I can’t clearly remember those few seconds of spiritual perfection, but I remember… this language doesn’t have words for it.” He broke the stretch pose to scratch at his head. “You know that feeling when something is both disgusting, insulting, and pisses you off all at the same time?”  
  
All three of them answered in the affirmative.  
  
“That’s what I remember feeling when I finally broke through and got that brain tumor to burst out of my skull.”  
  
Kousuke made a sickened face. “That… it’s not actually a tumor, is it?”  
  
“Of course it’s not but my whole personality is based on how little reverence I give to the cosmos.” Noburu crossed his arms and made a face. “Make a whole system to try and make people choose non-existence and expect not to be bricked in the face? My fat ass.”  
  
“Yet they still process you for reincarnation?” Raiga asked with an arched brow. “Why?”  
  
Noburu’s sour face faded. “They think existence is torture, and non-existence is bliss. Why wouldn’t they keep this going?”  
  
“Let’s… talk about something less spiritually concerning,” Kousuke muttered and rubbed his temple with his free hand. He looked to Raiga with a serious expression and gestured to the shore. Other monks waited there with wooden boxes, which the heavy disks they’d been weighed down with were returned to. “It seems Konoha has noticed us at last,” he said as he led the ninja away, back toward the tent camp. “They are sending a delegation to establish… relations. Along with some supplies, which we desperately need.”  
  
“And you want me to be at the meeting?” Raiga frowned, unsure of what the monk wanted out of the dialogue.  
  
“I want you and the other two members of the Swordsmen who joined us to represent Otogakure at the talks.” Kousuke led them to his tent, where tea had been prepared and set out for them to drink. The boys got into position faster than Raiga or Kousuke, youthful energy and all.  
  
Raiga wasn’t even twenty yet, and he felt like an old man. That thought made him sigh. “You mean… you won’t even be there?”  
  
“Not unless you wish me to be.” Kousuke sat and gestured for Raiga to do the same. When all four were seated, they started in on their tea. “I am not the leader of this ninja village. I’m here to keep the peace, help build, and protect those who need protection. However, my position as the one who defeated Kiri gives me a certain amount of political power.”  
  
Raiga tried not to balk as Kousuke looked at him with an intense look. It was the same kind of intense look which Noburu could give him -- like he was an ant who had gained the complete and undivided attention of something greater.  
  
“Political power I can use to empower others.” Kousuke gestured and two monks brought forward a box. “We don’t have forehead protectors made yet -- that’s a lot of metal that we need to use for the village. But we have these.”  
  
The box wasn’t terribly big or ornate, so Raiga opened it with little gravitas. Inside were clothes. He arched his brow and took the topmost item out. A haori-like coat, purple on the inside and black edged in goldenrod on the outside. It bore the Otogakure note in purple on each breast and the kanji for ‘Kabutowari’ inside a diamond, in the same shade of purple. Clearly, that specific haori was meant for Jinin.  
  
“Odd, isn’t it.” Kousuke sipped his tea with his hat tilted down to obscure his eyes. “Before the fall of Kirigakure, metal was easy to have commissioned, while silk took months to see the product. But now, in Oto, the situation is reversed. The war took too many blacksmiths, and seemed to leave the tailors alone.”  
  
Raiga nodded, his assessment much the same. After some shuffling, he found the haori meant for Kiba, and put it on with an air of seriousness. “I will do as you’ve asked. And I’ll make sure Fuguki and Jinin do as well.” It wasn’t the same as a flak jacket, or a forehead protector, but it was the first step in having pride in their new village. A village worth respecting, more than the blood-stained heap which Kiri had been.  
  
Kousuke nodded, and sipped his tea. “Represent your people well, then, jounin of Otogakure.”  
  
\--  
  
Genin Aburame.  
  
He had heard the news from his mother before the Hokage’s missive arrived to inform him, but even when he’d looked at it he couldn’t believe his luck. He was to be on a team led by one of the Sannin -- Orochimaru. Shibi had been resigned to the fact that he’d have to wait for the jounin exams to be assigned to a squad -- so many jounin had to leave the village on missions to enforce treaty violations, there hadn’t been enough able to take genin from his graduating class.  
  
Shibi made sure he polished the gourd he carried two additional hives of insects in, and that he wore his most mission-ready gear and looked like a serious shinobi before he departed to meet his team. One of the team members had been hospitalized, so they would meet at Konoha General to greet her as she left, and meet as a team.  
  
They already had a C-rank mission they had been assigned. Shibi had been so ecstatic that his mother’s insects had to remind his to calm down. Every few steps he had to remind himself to be a serious, intimidating shinobi, and not give in to the urge to congratulate himself on his luck.  
  
 _With teammates like this, it is clear we will be a special ops team as we grow stronger,_ he contemplated as he walked the pounded dirt streets of the village. _My espionage and tracking ability, a Hyuga’s byakugan and unique taijutsu style, and an Uzumaki with sealing experience. Orochimaru-sensei will not consider us a burden._ He did not let the ‘I hope’ escape the deep corners of his mind, lest doubt undo all his work to appear a serious shinobi.  
  
The hospital had recently installed glass doors which opened as one approached -- the latest technology. He allowed himself to ponder the expense before he entered the lobby. His teammate was easy to spot -- there were no other Hyuga waiting.  
  
“Well met,” Shibi said as he approached where the brown-haired teen sat. He bowed his head, one nobleman to the other, and spoke his introductions.  
  
The Hyuga rose as well, and bowed to him as Shibi had done. “I am Hizashi Hyuga, of the Hyuga branch family. Well met to you as well. May we work well together.”  
  
Shibi took the genin’s measure while he was sure Hizashi did the same to him. Brown hair, like his twin Hiashi. More defined muscles than other children in their age group. Black shirt and pants with bandages wrapped around his ankles and wrists, and kunai/shuriken holsters on each leg. Hizashi had customized his forehead protector to a more muted color than the standard blue. “You have a powerful build,” Shibi complimented his fellow. “A taijutsu specialist?”  
  
“I have started to learn alternate taijutsu styles since I’m not allowed to train in the higher ranks of the gentle fist. Most of them require a more powerful build.” For only a moment, Hizashi’s byakugan activated. “Your chakra is quite imposing. A genjutsu type?”  
  
Shibi confirmed that assessment. “It would stand to reason that the third member of our team is a ninjutsu specialist. Has Orochimaru-sensei,” Shibi refused to let any of his excitement show in his tone when he said that, “been by yet?”  
  
“He was here when I arrived.” Hizashi indicated the building above them. “He is on the third floor, with our teammate. She is about to be discharged.”  
  
The Aburame nodded, and together they sat down to wait patiently.  
  
Their talk had been good, no insults were thrown, no one agitated the queens, no one had bugs on them and devouring chakra. Well, except the ones in Shibi himself. All in all, better than his introduction to his fellow academy students.  
  
“People will likely have things to say about us,” Hizashi started with no preamble. “The Hyuga, and Aburame have their own detractors, while our teammate is Kushina. You know how people treated her in the academy.”  
  
“We will have to watch out for each other,” Shibi said, and nodded as he picked up on Hizashi’s meaning. “And keep Kushina from murdering any clients who make impolite comments.”  
  
“Perhaps Orochimaru-sensei can teach her to channel it into overwhelming killing intent, as he does?”  
  
Shibi nodded, and was silent for a couple minutes. “...I would not mind learning to do that, either.”  
  
“It would be a useful skill,” Hizashi confirmed with a nod.  
  
The good talks continued! He’d had two good short conversations back to back. A new record.  
  
But eventually the comfortable silence ended, and the tall, pale, dark-haired Sannin entered the lobby with their teammate beside him. Kushina was an immigrant to Konoha -- she dressed in the style of Uzushiogakure, and her long, red hair stood out among Konoha’s typical brown hair.  
  
Her first words when she saw them were less than heartening. “Oh,” she said with a small twitch in her hands. “A… Hyuga and an Aburame? Eheh…, glad to be on your team?” She was visibly uncomfortable with the two of them, it was obvious.  
  
Already Shibi felt his excitement dampened a bit, but he didn’t let it show. “Glad to be on your team, Kushina.” He bowed to her, and set the stage for Hizashi to do the same. Then they did the same for Orochimaru-sensei. “And thank you for taking us on as your students.”  
  
“Geeze,” Kushina muttered. Perhaps she didn’t know they could hear her. “Two sticks in the mud for teammates. Not going to be any fun at all.”  
  
Orochimaru looked the three of them over, and smiled. Naturally, his smile seemed vaguely threatening -- that seemed to be how the snake Sannin’s face worked. The gold slit-pupil eyes did have that effect. “I’m glad to meet you all. Now that Kushina is discharged -- let’s go find a place to eat together, and I can tell you about our first mission.” While Kushina had found them creepy, Shibi couldn’t tell Orochimaru’s thoughts. The man’s body language had little in the way of unconscious movements to indicate mood.  
  
“Since Kushina has just gotten out of the hospital,” Shibi commented with haste by his standards, “she should be the one to decide where we go.”  
  
“Oh! I know a great ramen place!” Kushina’s mood visibly improved as she all but skipped to the door. “Come on, let’s go!”  
  
\--  
  
Legendary Sannin Orochimaru  
  
From the moment he had three preteens look up at him and call him sensei, Orochimaru had a voice in his head screaming in a full-throated panic constantly. He was a Sannin. He killed people with vigor! He mastered jutsu left, right, and center! He had no experience looking after children!  
  
Sarutobi-sensei had never even taken them on an escort mission before -- and now he had a constant escort mission where the protected parties were expected to fight? Madness! Complete, utter madness! What was the appropriate amount of training for genin? Sarutobi-sensei had driven him and his teammates to train until their bones cracked -- was that normal? Did everyone’s sensei do that? Was he expected to do that? Sarutobi-sensei had somehow found the one field in which Orochimaru had _literally no_ frame of reference!  
  
Thankfully he treated it like talking to mission clients, and he didn’t have to express the internal screaming and anxiety to anyone except himself. He could vent about it to Jiraiya later on. He realized as he thought those words that he hadn’t asked Jiraiya about his experience being a jounin-sensei. If he wasn’t in public, Orochimaru would have face-palmed himself.  
  
While they waited for their orders in Ichiraku Ramen, Orochimaru glanced over at his students. Kushina was quite obviously frightened by both Orochimaru and her teammates. Out of all of them, she was the most ‘normal’, and thus likely felt like an outsider. Shibi and Hizashi were both stoic, but Orochimaru could pick up faint hints at emotions underneath. It would take years of training for them to get to the point where they could hide their emotions entirely, and read it in others. Shibi was excited, it showed in the way his mouth kept inching into smiles before he forced it back. And Hizashi was proud, but also bitter.  
  
Not surprising at all, really. Shibi hadn’t had a jounin-sensei due to shortages, and Hizashi had been removed from his team when his twin brother’s sensei died in a mission. The boy probably was proud to have Orochimaru as his new sensei -- but bitter, because he’d had a good relationship with his old one.  
  
When their food had been delivered, Orochimaru took out a narrow scroll from his flak jacket with a public-safe summary of their mission. Shibi was closest to him, so the Aburame boy got to read it first. If anyone from Oto heard that the mission was classified as C-rank, they might be a bit insulted. But with Sarutobi-sensei’s machinations, Orochimaru couldn’t take an unpaid leave of absence to scope them out anymore. The genin needed money too.  
  
“My insects will be more noticeable in the winter,” Shibi commented. “Most others have died or entered dormancy.”  
  
“A greater degree of caution is needed, then.” Hizashi responded and passed the scroll along to Kushina. “Kirigakure was shamefully disbanded by their daimyo. They will put up a front of strength in front of Orochimaru-sensei, we will need to figure out their weaknesses.”  
  
Kushina looked at the scroll and her hands tightened into fists. “They’re building a village in Wave….” It was clear she wasn’t a fan. She passed the scroll back and dug into her ramen angrily.  
  
“Which is why we’re going there,” Orochimaru said stirred the ramen to let it cool a bit. He didn’t want to be burned by it in front of his students. “They’re right off Fire Country’s shores, a friendly relationship would be preferable.”  
  
“Even after what they did to Uzushiogakure?” Shibi asked, and followed Orochimaru’s example.  
  
“The Hokage feels that Kiri being expelled was revenge enough.” He noted, but did not respond to Kushina’s huff. “The village won’t have the same leadership which made those decisions, so we could hope for a more reasonable neighbor.”  
  
“Will an envoy be sent off to the new Water Country village as well?” Hizashi asked with an arched brow. He was leery of eating the ramen, but tried some nonetheless.  
  
“Mhm. Jiraiya and his team will go to Nadeshiko village after we return from Otogakure.” Jiraiya hadn’t been told that yet. If he knew, the toad sage would hound Orochimaru every day to return to Konoha so he could go to the village of kunoichi for his own perversion’s sake.  
  
“Is… that wise?” All three of his students had a sudden horrified reaction to the thought of Jiraiya going to Nadeshiko, but Hizashi gave voice to their concern.  
  
“No,” Orochimaru shook his head. “But I am mostly glad they don’t expect me to do both diplomatic missions.”  
  
There would be some advantages to that, but Nadeshiko had a kidnapping tradition he wanted exactly zero percent of. Kidnapping for politics or a mission was acceptable, kidnapping for marriage was not. It worried him how accepting of that everyone seemed to be on the basis of ‘attractive women doing the kidnapping’.  
  
“Otogakure is still being built, according to our latest intelligence.” He started to eat the ramen he’d been served, cooled off a bit, and appreciated the artistry. “So pack for a camping trip. Combat is not expected, but if you can, pick a fight with some Oto genin that you know you can win -- and try to make it look like an honor-based affair.” Oto’s most likely leaders were the surviving Swordsmen, who all seemed to have an honorable streak, so it was more likely to be tolerated. “Most of their genin are conscripts. We need to know how much weaker than you they are.”  
  
  
He knew, the moment he’d said it, that it was terrible advice from a sensei -- but he couldn’t stop his mouth once it got started. The information would be helpful for the mission report and asserting dominance, but more than likely they’d somehow find a way to make his nephew one of their opponents. The internal screaming just grew louder as he thought about it, so he focused on the ramen.  
  
Maybe his nephew would enjoy being beaten up. Maybe that was how Kiri nin greeted each other, viciously beating eachother into pulp. That would explain a lot, actually.  
  
\---  
  
Chair: I’ve made *Orochimaru as a character*  
Also Chair: You’ve messed up a perfectly good supervillain. Look, it’s got anxiety.


	20. Not Alone

**Ch 20: Not Alone**  
  
\---  
  
Jounin Kurosuki  
  
Raiga was brought by Noburu and Haruki to the Jiang family tent for a team meal, despite his protests that he could eat alone. Akami had somewhat of a reputation among the former foot caste -- she was big, she was overweight, she was a taskmaster in the kitchen because they couldn’t afford to waste food, and worse -- she kept unsavory company.  
  
Raiga could already see unpleasant looks directed at Haruki and Noburu as they passed other tents which faded into fear when Raiga was spotted. An eyes caste boy among the foot caste was a crime of revenge waiting to happen -- he hoped Haruki didn’t let his guard down.  
  
If he got killed by some former foot caste punk, Raiga would have to kill Haruki’s murderer -- and a whole chain of violence would unfold.  
  
Haruki and Noburu squabbled with each other over some stupid topic -- Raiga had let their arguments blend into the background noise due to their frequency. While they did that, Raiga examined the Jiang tent. A pavilion tent -- with curtains to partition it into rooms. Akami and the boys had a room on either side of the tent, while the large central room was the living space and kitchen area. There was a small table against the back wall where photos were arranged. Noburu, his mother, and a couple strangers Raiga didn’t know. A girl with beetle-themed glasses, and an older man she clung to, and someone who was clearly Noburu’s father. The man had pale skin and vividly brown eyes without a visible pupil, his cheeks had a strange crease from the corners of his mouth until it vanished into his long hair. Horn-like growths sprang up from his skull. In the photo the horned man leaned on Akami with a much smaller Noburu between them -- squished.  
  
Raiga sighed, and went to sit at the table while the boys brought the food.  
  
“Are you okay, Raiga-sensei?” Haruki asked as he laid the rice down.  
  
“I was just… looking at Noburu’s family photos.” Raiga gestured in that direction. “And it made me realize I can barely remember what my parents looked like.”  
  
The Fujimoto boy looked at the ground with a saddened look. “Yeah. I… we only ever had portraits, silk scrolls. When I’m gone… no one will know what they looked like.”  
  
“What y’all need to learn how to do is draw then,” Noburu said and brought a pot of lovely-smelling stew to the table and set it down to begin serving. “It’s a fun hobby -- you can make good money from it and express yourself. A bit sink or swim, though.”  
  
Raiga sniffed at the stew, and noticed a non-fishy meat in it. “Pork?” He arched a brow at Noburu. “Where did you get pork?”  
  
Noburu pointed off to the south. “Maneater boars. We found some, killed a piglet, brought it back to give the camp some extra meat.”  
  
“This ‘piglet’ was twice the size of any grown pig I’ve ever seen,” Haruki said and rolled his eyes. “I still don’t believe you that the parents were bigger.”  
  
“You’ll see when we go pig-huntin’. Anyway. You and Raiga-sensei are going to love this-a-here giant-pig stew.” He made sure to poor a ladle’s worth more into their bowls than he did his. “Bone app the teeth.”  
  
Raiga and Haruki squinted at him.  
  
“It’s what people on the southern continent say before they eat.” Noburu shook his head. “Y’all’s barbarians.”  
  
Raiga narrowed his eyes at the chubby genin and pointed at him. “You’re just fucking with us.”  
  
“See, the best part is I’m actually not. I’m tormenting you with the actual facts this time.” Noburu grinned and sat down.  
  
“This time? You mean you’ve been lying to us in the past.”  
  
Noburu nodded, solemn. “I have a confession to make, Raiga-sensei.” He looked at Haruki. “I’m sorry. That tree wasn’t your mother, and you’re not a half-tree mutant. I know how you had your heart set on growing apples, but it’s just not -- mmph!”  
  
Haruki had found a towel, wadded it up, and thrown it at his teammate’s head. “Jackass,” he snapped and sat down with his arms crossed. “You think I couldn’t tell that tree wasn’t my mom? She had a better sense of humor!”  
  
Something inside Raiga clicked. Sitting there with his students, his students having become friends, it felt right. That was how Kiri should have been. It was what he should have encouraged from the beginning, but didn’t because of _that man_. Because of how he’d made Kiri.  
  
However, Raiga’s eyes naturally drifted to the fourth side of the table. Empty. They were missing someone. But… she hadn’t come to Wave. Either she struck out on her own, or she stayed and died.  
  
“Sayaka’s place in the team will always be there,” Raiga announced as he stirred the pork stew he’d been served. “But she was a chunin anyway. I should have gotten a genin to even you two out earlier.”  
  
Haruki’s attention snapped to Raiga. “If she comes on another boat, she gets to join back up?”  
  
“Of course.” Raiga nodded and took a spoonful of stew up to his mouth to cool it. “But these sorts of arrangements are made all the time when one member makes chunin. You two can’t take the exams as-is.”  
  
“Fine. I approve a fill-in team member.” Haruki, more tolerant of heat, took a spoonful of stew and ate it as Raiga ate his cooler sample.  
  
Within seconds they both seemed to experience the same symptoms. Searing, almost acidic burning feelings on their tongues, and a heat that they couldn’t escape. While they scrambled for water to put out the fires of their mouths, they both swore vengeance on the turtle-boy who laughed himself off his chair.  
  
\--  
  
Mercenary-nin Kanzaki  
  
So, as it turned out there were no ships which went from Neck to Wave. Water had been the meeting point of many trade routes -- the optimal place to go to for transit. But with Water about to become Soup there was a sordid mess of customs arrangements which had to be sorted. Not the least of which was -- Sayaka’s passport was no longer valid.  
  
So she went by land. Sayaka signed on as a protector ninja for a caravan going from Neck’s new capital, north into Valley Country, which would then cross Marsh Country, and end at the end of Honey’s peninsula.  
  
It would take a while, but Sayaka would make it. She owed it to herself to move past the mess her mother had made.  
  
While she trudged along next to wagons heavy with Neck’s fine wares to sell at the daimyo wedding, she remembered how her mother had looked when they parted ways at the port. Broken, defeated, hollow. Probably much like how Sayaka felt.  
  
The caravaneers left her alone for the most part -- she was a ninja, and none of the other protectors were. They were just people with sharpened metal. And she had traps for days -- both hunting and defensive. It only took one peeping tom strung up from a tree by way of snare trap for folks to leave her be.  
  
But the flipside to that was that she was alone. With only herself for company, and her thoughts to pass the time.  
  
That wasn’t a healthy headspace for a shinobi. It wasn’t a healthy headspace for a teenager. It wasn’t healthy, and she knew it.  
  
So, in hindsight, it wasn’t really her fault when the caravan walked directly into a trap.  
  
They’d found an abandoned castle in the mountains, on the border with Valley, and stopped for the night to rest their horses and oxen before the constant elevation shifts. Sayaka had parted from the caravan to lay traps around the castle, for early warning and damage, and she’d been gone maybe an hour.  
  
What she’d come back to was a castle whose door opened without any visible automation and no human control. “That’s not normal,” the bald former chunin muttered. She looked around the outside and saw the carts and livestock totally abandoned. Not a person in sight. She frowned, and regretted not getting sensor training. “They wouldn’t just leave the carts without watchers….” She looked up at the castle, and nodded her head. “Clearly, a trap. But what kind of trap?”  
  
She lept from the stairs, and the open door, to stand on the roof. Her trained trap expert’s eye searched for signs of ninja habitation -- cracked tiles that together gave the impression of feet, scorch marks, and the like. Nothing. In fact, there were no broken or chipped tiles at all. Suspicious of that, she put chakra into her foot and stomped on the tiles as hard as she could. There was no cracking sound, no shattered shards in the air.  
  
Sayaka examined where she’d stomped and narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care if Neck has the best potters who have ever lived anywhere in the world -- they can’t make roof tiles that strong.” She promptly reached into her satchel bag and produced a roll of explosive tags. “So, let’s see how it does against these.”  
  
“N-no, wait!” A man’s voice, desperate, rang out from below her. “Please, don’t blow me up!”  
  
“Oh, a transformation?” Saysaka tossed her roll of explosive tags in the air like a ball, her other hand on her hip. “I can guess from your decision to talk that two hundred and fifty tags in one place would actually hurt you?”  
  
The man’s voice whimpered. “I am doing the duty that my lord Koza Kubisaki asked of me, please!”  
  
“And that duty is…?”  
  
“All who trespass in his castle are to be devoured….”  
  
Sayaka was quiet for a few minutes while she tossed the roll of tags around like a ball. “What’s your name?”  
  
“I-I am Shiromari….”  
  
“Well, Shiromari, I’m going to give you to the count of ten to un-devour my caravan -- or I place these tags and whatever happens, happens.” The muscular kunoichi looked away from the castle, and began to count -- for a creature of such size that it could transform into a castle, it probably wouldn’t _kill_ Shiromari. But it’d definitely maim them. At the five count, Sayaka caught the paper bombs just as a mouth opened up underneath her. She fell into darkness, as the mouth closed above, and landed on a stately floor.  
  
“I cannot ignore the orders of my contract holder,” Shiromari said with a desperate edge to his voice. “But Koza is dead, and the contract of chameleons lies over there.”  
  
Sayaka looked around and found herself in a stately hallway, where a shrine of soft blue fabric was arranged around a weathered scroll. The kunoichi arched her brow. “You’re okay with me being your summoner after I threatened to blow you up?”  
  
“I watched you lay traps in the woods, and I heard what the trespassers said about you. You still threatened me to see them freed, because that is your duty as their protector. You could become a chameleon summoner, or you could destroy the contract. Whatever happens, happens.”  
  
Sayaka looked around for any obvious signs of a trap, then focused on the less obvious signs of a trap, and then threw a hook on a rope to catch the scroll and bring it to her. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t walk up to it when you could just make another pit under me.”  
  
“Cautious. Odd, given you threatened to blow me up mere minutes ago.”  
  
“I still might.” She knew she wouldn’t. The summon -- a transformed chameleon it seemed -- knew she wouldn’t. At worst she would destroy the contract. She remembered Washu, one of Raiga-sensei’s summons, and wondered if there were smaller chameleons she could have which could just keep her company. Perhaps a bit hasty due to the desperate need for company, she pulled open the scroll and bit her thumb.  
  
\--  
  
Genin Fujimoto  
  
Haruki had dressed in his best -- maybe not ideal for meeting a new team member, but he wanted to impress and show off that the Fujimotos weren’t dead yet. He tried to get Noburu to dress nice but that brought up the unfortunate fact that his teammate didn’t _have_ anything in the same league as Haruki. Near as he could tell, none of the former foot caste did.  
  
Something to fix once Oto was off the ground.  
  
The representatives from Konohagakure would arrive sometime that day, and the work on Oto’s superstructure had stalled. Since he wasn’t going to attend the meeting, Noburu had gone off to talk with Kousuke about that. Haruki followed him to convince him to attend.  
  
“I’m not letting Konoha nin I don’t know anywhere near me,” Noburu snapped as he walked to Kousuke’s tent. “And if they want to be coy about who’s coming, fine. I have work to do.”  
  
“We’re Raiga-sensei’s students! We’re supposed to be there to support him!” Haruki fired back and tried to get in front of the chubby genin. This backfired when Noburu calmly jumped over him.  
  
“He has two perfectly good jounin there to support him.” Noburu kept walking and evaded Haruki every time they got in front of him. “And we have to finish the superstructure so we can begin pumping out the water. You wanna be in goddamn tents when a blizzard hits?”  
  
That was a completely fair point, but Haruki refused to give in! “Maybe the Konoha ninja can help us with that? Do they have any of the First Hokage’s clan who could use their tree jutsu to -- “  
  
“None of his kids inherited the kekkei genkai.” Noburu paused to look over his shoulder at Haruki and made a face. “The Senju are functionally extinct at this point, I think. Tsunade is only a descendent, I think because the Senju intermarried and didn’t think to ask their husbands to take their names. Idiots.”  
  
“Hey, clan politics is tricky!” Haruki made a truly insulted face despite having no feelings for the lost Senju. “Egos can be fragile when marriage comes along.”  
  
“How wonderful. So a clan that endured hundreds of years of warfare couldn’t last two generations in peacetime. That’s such a noble way to go out.”  
  
Haruki snapped out of it and raced to stand in front of Noburu again. “Look, forget the Senju. Back to here and now -- Raiga-sensei needs to make a showing for the Konoha representatives. We’re his students, it’s expected of us to be there.”  
  
“By whom?” Noburu dodged around Haruki yet again and kept walking.  
  
“By Raiga-sensei!”  
  
“When did he tell you this?”  
  
“He didn’t! Because it’s expected!”  
  
“So you don’t know that he expects us to be there, but you’re assuming.”  
  
“It’s generally assumed in polite company that important figures in a village -- such as a people possessing a valuable kekkei genkai,” he gestured to himself, “or other powerful abilities will be there to at least give the impression of being strong.”  
  
Noburu turned and looked at him like he was crazy. “We live in tents.” He said it as if it totally rebuked Haruki’s point.  
  
“Hi!”  
  
A girl’s voice startled the both of them, and made Noburu jump as he was closer. There stood a girl their age, her long hair done up two long braids bound up next to her ears, dressed in loose grey pants and a purple-hemmed grey kosode. From her distinctive tattoos under her eyes and above her eyebrows, she was clearly from the Kaguya clan. Haruki also noticed an odd stick tucked into her sash -- near one end was an eye and a thin wire that led to a roll on the girl’s opposite hip.  
  
Immediately, Haruki was on guard while he noticed Noburu seemed annoyed.  
  
The girl waved at them and smiled with cheer. “I’m Junko Kaguya! I’m really pleased to meet you! Lord Raiga asked me to join your team! I hope we get to kill our enemies together!” She struck a pose where she held her hands up on either side of her face, with her index and middle fingers extended to sort of look like whiskers. At least, that’s what Haruki thought she wanted to go for with that look.  
  
Noburu blinked, looked at Junko, and then Haruki. “I didn’t know they made Kaguya clan members in genki girl flavor.”  
  
Junko spun out of her pose and hid her mouth with one of her hands as she giggled. “Aw, silly! We’re all genki girls, really. It’s just that the boys love feeling blood on their skin, and they get too excited.”  
  
“I don’t know what a genki girl is,” Haruki started with a noticeable waver in his voice. “But that was a terrifying sentence to hear.”  
  
Junko made an exaggerated gasp, and looked around. “Oh my! We’re going to be late for the meeting with the Konoha ninja! Raiga-sensei is depending on us to be there, and terrify our enemies into being allies instead!” She nodded, resolute. “We need to go right away.”  
  
“Yes, see, it’s not just me saying it!” Haruki gestured at Noburu. “But he won’t listen.”  
  
Noburu rolled his eyes. “I don’t trust Konoha not to try and murder us all. Danzo Shimura’s still alive. And I need to help build the village.”  
  
Junko nodded, understanding. “You’re right. Konoha could try to kill us, and the village does need to be built. But you know what’s the best part?” She bit her lip, excited beyond words. “They could both happen! We could fight the Konoha ninja at the meeting, and help build the village when they give up! So come on,” she strode forward and effortlessly punched Noburu in the stomach with such force that he was lifted off the ground. Like it was all planned, Junko moved her shoulder to catch the chubby genin and carried him off as he gasped and choked. “We can’t afford to be late for a possible blood-bath!”  
  
Haruki was stunned for a moment and followed after her a moment later. “Okay, how did you do that? And can you teach me?”  
  
“Of course, we’re teammates now! It’s what we do!”  
  
Noburu made a gurgling noise as the newly completed Team Raiga reversed all the progress he’d made.  
  
\---  
  
Cast:  
  
Junko Kaguya: A genin of Otogakure, and current heiress of the Kaguya clan. She’s the only daughter out of seven children, of which she is the oldest. A generally nice girl, her mannerisms nonetheless remind people of the visceral joy that Kaguya clan members derive from combat and bloodshed. She tends to shout a lot and seemingly never runs out of energy. She has been assigned to learn how to use the sword Nuibari in anticipation of eventually being a full member of the Seven Swordsmen once she achieves jounin rank. She is the only one of her siblings to have manifested the clan’s kekkei genkai so far.  
  
Sayaka becomes the first one of the group to get a summon contract! Damn, now I gotta do more research on chameleons. Oh well!


	21. First Impressions

**Ch 21: First Impressions**  
  
\---  
  
Genin Hyuga.  
  
There wasn’t much to the village that Hizashi could see, as he stood among the trees to the west of the sound. They had crossed the straits and come ashore, spoke to some villagers, and continued inland. So far the only challenge had been the absolutely massive pigs on the island -- even their piglets were twice the size of a full grown Konoha pig. Orochimaru-sensei’s snake summons had the constricting power to kill them, so it hadn’t been too risky.  
  
“Near as I can tell...,” Hizashi said with his byakugan focused on the distant tent cluster. “That’s all they have. Tents and boats.”  
  
“‘S still more than they should have,” Kushina muttered off to the side. “Who the hell said they could come to Wave, anyway?”  
  
Hizashi arched his brow at her question but didn’t take his focus off the tents. He wanted to be certain that it was as it seemed. They’d been there for weeks, and they hadn’t even started a wall around the tents? It didn’t add up. “From what I heard the villagers say, they’re okay with them living in this sound. No one wants to live next to those giant pigs.”  
  
“Well -- they shouldn’t be.” Kushina leaned against the side of a mangrove tree and pouted. “They should’ve told the Kiri scum to kick sand, and go find another place to live.”  
  
“And risk being killed for it?” Hizashi caught sight of monks on the water’s surface. They danced in strange patterns while ninja on the shore observed and mimicked their forms. “Kiri was renowned for brutality. You’d ask helpless civilians to fight them?”  
  
Kushina was quiet for a couple seconds, then glared at Hizashi. “Why are you defending Kiri ninja, huh?”  
  
“I’m not. I’m asking you to think about where your emotions end and your ninja instincts begin.” Hizashi pushed his byakugan a little further, to try and see if any of the monks had the rebel leader’s distinctive staff. No such luck. “Emotions are a weakness on a mission. You have to lock them up until we get back to Konoha.” _And even after that, sometimes,_ Hizashi thought to himself. “We’re here to make allies, remember?”  
  
“They burned Uzushiogakure to the ground,” Kushina snapped, offended. “Uzushio was Konoha’s ally -- why would they want to ally with Kiri?”  
  
“Because that is what the First Hokage did.” Hizashi deactivated his byakugan and snapped his gaze over at his teammate. “The Uchiha and Senju were at war for hundreds of years. The village is full of families that visited fates like that on each other. Even we Hyuga have left behind burned homes in the past. Kiri is just as gone as Uzushio; we’re here to ally with Oto.”  
  
Hizashi thought he’d argued his point well, but Kushina stomped away. He reflected for a moment, had his word choice been incorrect? Had he been too direct?  
  
Shibi coughed from Hizashi’s other side, his first noise in hours. “The past is not so easily forgotten as that. She remembers Uzushio burning.” The Aburame’s tone was soft, and his sunglasses made him inscruitible. “It was only a few years ago.”  
  
Kushina came back with Orochimaru-sensei a few minutes later, she had her arms crossed and refused to look at Hizashi at all.  
  
“My snake summons are done with the boar. Let that be a lesson, students,” Orochimaru began conversationally. “If you kill something delicious with a summon’s help, they’ll appreciate it if you let them eat it.”  
  
Hizashi stared at him. Shibi stared at him. Kushina looked up at him in utter bewilderment.  
  
After a moment of silence, Shibi coughed again. “Um. That’s how we Aburame domesticated our insects. They started out as summons, and eventually we got them to where they are now by letting them eat our enemies.”  
  
Orochimaru stared at him. Hizashi stared at him. Kushina looked at him with horrified disgust.  
  
Kushina’s horrified expression doubled in intensity suddenly. “A-anyone else imagining Orochimaru-sensei with tiny snakes crawling around under his skin?”  
  
“No,” Hizashi, and Shibi responded at the same time, the former’s tone more disturbed while the latter was confused.  
  
 _She must never know,_ Hizashi decided as he suppressed the mental image fiercely.  
  
“Ah, just me. Tha-that’s great. Great….”  
  
Orochimaru-sensei patted her on the head. “Let’s leave that colorful picture behind and go meet our new friends, hmm?” He looked around wistfully at the mangroves for a moment, before he lept into the branches and his genin followed him.  
  
\--  
  
Legendary Sannin Orochimaru.  
  
Orochimaru had been in Wave before, as a stopping point on missions. It had never registered as a distinct place, just a stop toward somewhere else. But when he arrived, with the knowledge that his family had come from there -- that his elder brother had been born there… it changed how Orochimaru looked at the country.  
  
The misty swamps seemed more inviting. The humidity didn’t bother him as much as it had other times. The maneater boar he killed made him imagine his parents and elder brother hunting them -- his mother had loved the taste of pork. He wondered if their house still stood -- or if someone else lived there. Would people notice the family resemblance?  
  
Would his nephew look at him and see Orochimaru’s brother instead? Would a similar appearance keep his family at arm’s length?  
  
He adjusted the large scroll he’d brought with them, with the supplies to be given to Oto on a successful alliance being struck, and wondered what he would have to do to see and meet his nephew and sister-in-law if Oto wasn’t reasonable. If Kousuke led it, he had high hopes.  
  
Orochimaru squinted at the tents as they approached. “You didn’t see anything, Hizashi?” He called back to his genin while they lept through the trees.  
  
“Nothing but tents,” the Hyuga confirmed. “I have no idea what’s holding them back.”  
  
Orochimaru looked around, confused. The villagers hadn’t cut down enough trees to indicate they were logging, the good quarry sites were on the opposite side of the sound, and none of the boats looked like they were being lived in. A glimmer of light under the water caught his attention. “How far can your byakugan see if you focus it in one direction only?”  
  
“About a mile. Where should I look?”  
  
Orochimaru pointed toward the sound. “There, below the water.”  
  
Hizashi stopped, which made the group stop as well, while he did as his sensei instructed. After a minute of building frustration on the boy’s face his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Under the water,” he said, amazed. “I see people, they’re using wrecks of old ships to build it under the water.”  
  
Well, that would be useful information to give the Hokage. “How far down?”  
  
“Almost half a mile below the surface. I can’t see enough of it to give details, but it’s a lot more developed than those tents.”  
  
Orochimaru cursed mentally -- that was too deep for him to try and summon a sea snake to scout the village. “It looks like we’ll have to wait for the guided tour.”  
  
That would be annoying, but with that knowledge he could spin Konoha’s position into something more favorable. Oto would no doubt look to awe him with their underwater fortress, and when he was ambivalent about it -- they would assume Konoha already had spies in their ranks.  
  
Maybe he could acquire actual spies in their ranks, too. That would be fun.  
  
Team Orochimaru resumed their approach and arrived at the camp in a suitably obvious way for ninja villages to greet each other.  
  
Hizashi and Shibi went to work immediately doing recon on the village -- Hizashi being obvious about it and Shibi being the subtle touch. Kushina, however, made no effort of hiding how disgusted she was by everyone and everything she saw.  
  
Orochimaru could sense tension in the camp. Most of the civilians he saw did not seem happy to be there. Many of the ninja he saw didn’t seem happy to be there. There were vestiges of class division in the form of dirty looks and different quality tents.  
  
There seemed to be a few ‘big’ tents, each marked by a banner. One was of a shark with a star for its eye, one of a stylized representation of a waterspout, one with a moonburst, one with the image of a turtle, and the last with a slug.  
  
He didn’t need to be told what the turtle and slug represented. It was fairly obvious. Orochimaru kept them in mind for possible free-roaming periods, and followed where he was led. He and his genin were led onto one of the metal passenger ferries which was anchored off shore.  
  
In a well-lit cabin, with proper chairs and a table, were three important figures. Three of the Seven Swordsmen, dressed in the style of Kirigakure but missing their forehead protectors and added with haori marked in the Otogakure note.  
  
Immediately Orochimaru’s eyes snapped from the three Swordsmen to the genin seated on the floor behind them. Three genin were there, either the personal apprentices of each Swordsman, or one whole genin team. And one of them caught Orochimaru’s eye.  
  
Discolored skin in patches of near-white paleness? Check. Glasses with slats instead of lenses? Check. Face immediately contorted in fear at being singled out? Triple check.  
  
“I bring the greetings of the Third Hokage, and the fire daimyo,” Orochimaru announced with a flowing bow. “I am Orochimaru, and come to speak on their behalf.”  
  
The youngest of the three, Raiga Kurosuki, spoke up. “Otogakure welcomes you, Orochimaru. Please, be seated and tell us of your travels and bring us news about Konoha. Your students may sit beside mine.”  
  
Orochimaru rose from his bow and glanced over. There were seating cushions provided next to the Oto genin. The Swordsmen were confident enough to ask Orochimaru to place his genin on the other side of three jounin. He susposed it was good that they thought so highly of themselves. It meant they wouldn’t require a firm leash. He hoped.  
  
He turned to his genin and nodded his head. In his mind, it was a power move to call their bluff. And it would hopefully show his students ‘I’m good enough to rescue you if things turn sour.’ Orochimaru and his genin sat at roughly the same time, and the pleasantries began.  
  
Orochimaru didn’t respond when he felt Shibi’s bugs on his skin -- no matter how desperately the sensation made him want to scream and run. He would not offend his student like that. **He wouldn’t**. However, Shibi must have seen something, as the boy suddenly became visibly uncomfortable. Orochimaru filed a note to comfort the boy when they had a moment alone.  
  
“...and so, here we are,” Orochimaru finished, and thus marked the end of pleasantries. “Your village grows in the shadow of mine. The Hokage would like to know your intentions.” He smiled, pleasant on the surface but with an ever-so-faint edge of killing intent.  
  
The large-nosed jounin to the right of Raiga, Jinin Akebino, snorted. “We are living. Building our village, so that we might find meaning in our lives that Kiri couldn’t provide.”  
  
“Oh?” Orochimaru steepled his fingers. “Are you saying that there is no lingering sentiment of being united by Kiri -- it was your home.”  
  
The fish-faced Fuguki shook his head. “Kiri couldn’t stand the trials put to it. We must learn from our mistakes and move forward.”  
  
Orochimaru smiled, understanding. “Yes, I can see that. However, there is the minor issue of Kiri’s involvement in Whirlpool’s destruction in the last war.” His eyes hardened while his smile remained. “I’m sure you understand how… displeased the Hokage would be to hear that people involved in that effort had settled next door.”  
  
“The civil war which put us into this position was quite bloody,” Raiga said with narrowed eyes. “I’m sure that the bloodthirsty individuals you mention all died on the front lines early on.”  
  
“Oh? I did not hear the deaths of Juzo Biwa, Jinpachi Munashi, or Kushimaru Kuriarare announced.” Orochimaru glanced behind Raiga, at a kunoichi seated beside his nephew. “But I see the sword Nuibari there. So clearly, I must have simply missed it.”  
  
“Perhaps you simply missed it among some exciting news from the continent.” Raiga’s fingers curled into a fist on the table. “Perhaps that incident with Tanigakure?”  
  
“You know,” Orochimaru chuckled and snapped his fingers. “That must have been it. How silly of me.” The edge of Orochimaru’s legendary killing intent never left his words. He stared at them in silence, the picture of statuesque serenity as they grew more visibly uncomfortable. When the silence had driven his implications deep into their host’s mind, he spoke again. “I could sing the song of alliance to the Hokage and the daimyo. They would ask for some tribute to allow you to grow in Fire Country’s shadow, and we would leave you be. Maybe…,” he reached behind his back and brushed the large scroll noticeably. “Or perhaps we could kindly offer you a hand up. Give you what you need to last the winter and build your village.”  
  
Orochimaru knew they didn’t have the spare resources to afford tribute. And they knew it too. But no one except Kousuke himself could likely stop Orochimaru if he wanted to massacre them all. And Kousuke wasn’t there.  
  
He expected Raiga to fold, but it was Fuguki who spoke up. “We would welcome Konoha’s assistance in these dire times.” The fish-faced Swordsman dared to look magnanimous. “This experience has taught us that… perhaps the philosophy of Konoha, their Will of Fire, is not without merit.” Fuguki’s eyes glinted. “We could certainly welcome Konoha’s aid… and the opportunity to learn from their example.”  
  
 _Ooh, ominous!_ Orochimaru filed that away for later consideration. “Naturally, this drifts to the subject of payment. You can’t gain without giving, you know….”  
  
Orochimaru’s nephew, Noburu, began to noticeably hum a [tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-E-m2pxeWHA). It wasn’t too unpleasant, actually.  
  
Raiga’s eye twitched, but he remained locked on Orochimaru. “And in exchange for that… you would ask what?”  
  
“Otogakure would not take substantial diplomatic steps away from Konoha’s current stances.” Orochimaru nodded to himself, as if it were perfectly reasonable. “No alliances or non-aggression pacts outside of what Konoha has at the moment.” Effectively it would force them to limit their foreign policy to nations friendly with Konoha and curtail any influence of their own.  
  
Noburu’s humming picked up in tempo.  
  
Raiga’s eye twitched again. “We would, of course, need to know Konoha’s stances with the various nations to know… who is and isn’t available, as it were.”  
  
“A list could be drawn up. No problem at all.” Orochimaru shrugged. His smile became slightly wider. “And… there is the issue of mutual protection.” The snake Sannin’s head flicked in the direction of the north. “The Kaizoku has earned its name many times throughout history. And Fire Country has several ports in this sea… we would ask you to come to their defense, when you have the forces, and naturally Konoha would come to yours if you needed assistance.”  
  
The language involved was of key importance. Konoha wouldn’t call on Oto to help them in the event of a general Fire Country emergency or specifically Konohagakure, but would expect it of Oto. Oto would serve as pseudo coast guards, and nothing more.  
  
But with all of Kiri’s old enemies still thirsting for blood, and two jinchuuriki to tempt stupid commanders, Oto would face harassment at best or siege at worst in the coming years. Orochimaru could tell from the displeased look on Raiga and Jinin’s faces that they knew there was no saying ‘no’ in this situation.  
  
Oto had nowhere else to turn. Konoha’s terms were generous by the miserly standards of shinobi.  
  
In a way, Wave not having a government worked to their favor. Orochimaru couldn’t ask them to override their domestic policies with Fire Country’s.  
  
“And of course,” Raiga started with a raised eyebrow. “Konoha would desire access to our internal bingo books.” While Oto dealt with the public versions of Konoha’s, was the unspoken addon.  
  
“Oh, the Hokage would certainly appreciate it. You’re so thoughtful.” Orochimaru smiled wide at the three jounin and moved to place the scroll on the table. “One last little, minor request.” Orochimaru closed his eyes and wagged his finger. “Kiri’s seal masters were known to be… poorer than usual. And you have two bijuu, now much closer to Fire Country than they were previously. We would like to take a look at their seals, and perhaps offer insight on them.”  
  
“I’m afraid we’re not in a position to grant such a request.” Raiga said with a polite smile of his own. An edge of the younger man’s killing intent snuck into his voice, and visibly worried his fellow Swordsmen. “Kousuke is not under our command -- we can’t make him let you look at his seal.”  
  
“Oh, I’ll just have to ask him myself, then.” Orochimaru shrugged. His eyes narrowed and his smile widened, while he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. “And… the three-tails jinchuuriki?”  
  
Raiga and Orochimaru had an intense stare-off. The Swordsman’s killing intent rose to meet Orochimaru’s whenever the two pressures met. It spoke well of him, that he was so willing to fight for his student.  
  
The Swordsman closed his eyes. “The three-tails is sealed with a symbol of Kiri’s barbaric cruelty. We cannot change it, however we wish we could. I will grant you the right to ask the jinchuuriki for the chance to look at it, but it is his burden -- and he has the right to refuse.”  
  
Orochimaru glanced at Kushina and noticed how viscerally uncomfortable she looked. Completely understandable given the subject matter. Shibi’s discomfort hadn’t abated at all, either. And Hizashi had picked up on his teammates’ status and was on guard as a result. It would be best to end the talks soon, and be patient.  
  
“Very well, then. Do we have a deal?” Orochimaru offered his hand across the table to the Swordsmen, to Raiga specifically. The two stared at one another, all while Raiga tilted his head to either side to listen for objections from Jinin and Fuguki. When none were raised, Raiga’s hand joined Orochimaru’s, and the two shook.  
  
“You and your genin must be tired from your long journey,” Jinin said, and glanced over his shoulder at them. “Rooms have been prepared in this ship -- we will show you to them, and you may stay as our honored guests before a paper document with the agreement is drawn up and signed.”  
  
“I’m thankful for your gracious hospitality,” Orochimaru said and let the killing intent fade from his voice altogether. He rolled the scroll with the supplies over to Raiga, and stood up. The jounin and genin did so as well. The two groups of them split up to rejoin their respective senseis. The Sannin glanced toward Noburu again, and turned to leave when Jinin stepped forward to show them to their rooms.  
  
It was only when he left that he realized his first impression with his nephew was a time when he had been leaking killing intent with every word for a conversation. His internal screaming started up again, and he’d just gotten it down to an internal whine.  
  
As soon as they were alone in what had likely been an officer’s suite on the ship, Shibi caught everyone’s attention with a question at Hizashi. “Um,” the Aburame asked, visibly hesitant. “W-were there any Hyuga in… Water Country?”  
  
Orochimaru stared at him with blatant curiosity. Kushina stared at him in bewilderment.  
  
Hizashi arched his brow and slowly shook his head. “No… why?”  
  
Shibi drew his head down deeper into his high-collar coat. “Well… you see… one of those genin, the one with the glasses? He…”  
  
\---  
  
This is your official chairly warning. We’re nearing the point where there will be a three-year timeskip. Also, an amendment to previous statements given new thoughts on the subject. Kakashi’s age had been previously stated to be two years old, let’s dial that back to have him be less than one so that he can still ridiculously get into the Academy at four.


	22. The Sleep of Gods

**Ch 22: The Sleep of Gods**  
  
\--  
  
Isobu  
  
“Stressing out will not make the situation better,” the titanic turtle rumbled in the depths of his dominion.  
  
He watched as his jinchuuriki’s mind paced on the bend of the hook which was the seal. “No, but I can’t actually stop it.” Noburu tapped the side of his head. “My brain’s fight or flight response has gone out of control and I can’t shut it off yet, so the only way to speed it up is to work myself to mental exhaustion.”  
  
The great turtle spirit rumbled, bubbles rose from him in a vast cloud. “That’s not healthy.”  
  
“No, it isn’t.”  
  
“Is that common among humans?”  
  
Noburu nodded. “It can also spiral further into appropriating functions of the frontal cortex, and result in anxiety, which can then spiral into any number of anxiety disorders.”  
  
For just a moment, Isobu allowed his captor species a moment of pity. “You humans aren’t very well put together.”  
  
“Nope! It’s not just isolated to humans though, cheetahs can also get anxiety disorders.” Noburu continued to pace. “This could take a while.”  
  
“How long -- ?”  
  
“My record is thirty-six years, two weeks, and four days.”  
  
If he weren’t submerged in water, Isobu would have sweat a bit to imagine being _like that_ for so long. Mental exhaustion was harder for the spirits to achieve, but it happened nonetheless. “Perhaps… speaking to someone could help ease your anxiety?”  
  
“Who?” Noburu stopped to look at him. “Kousuke already knows the deal -- illusion of control that I cognitively know but can’t change these brainmeats being unable to accept.”  
  
“You could speak with Kurama’s jinchuuriki. Kurama’s asleep, they won’t mind me sending you into their dominion.”  
  
Noburu snorted. “I don’t think she’ll want to listen to me. Kushina hates being a jinchuuriki -- you know how her seal has Kurama pinned to that giant sphere.”  
  
Isobu sighed. For all the understanding his jinchuuriki had, Noburu could also be obstinate. “She will never change if she’s left alone.”  
  
Noburu sighed, unable to refute Isobu’s words. However, before they could begin the process a cacophonous scream echoed through the water. The distant pillars of coral shook and swayed from the force of the vibration, and even Isobu had to cover his ears to block it out.  
  
“What the hell was that?” Noburu asked when it finally stopped.  
  
“Chomei,” Isobu answered morose. “She was in a situation where her jinchuuriki needed her help to survive, and Chomei withheld her assistance instead.” He looked down to the depths, and allowed himself to feel grief at Chomei’s temporary passing. “She died with her jinchuuriki. And now she’s adrift in the aether until her chakra collects again.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“She was free, for just a moment. That fleeting joy will let her find her way home again. And, perhaps she will escape capture once she re-forms.” Isobu turned his head back to his jinchuuriki. “That probably woke Kurama up. I will ask if it is appropriate for the two of you to speak.”  
  
Speaking to Kurama when they had just woken up was a terrible decision, but Isobu hoped that the promise of more music would convince Kurama to not maim him for the intrusion. He came out of the discussion with deep teeth marks on his carapace, but other than that he was whole and healthy. Kurama seemed to enjoy melancholic music.  
  
With Noburu’s mind elsewhere, Isobu reached out and touched one of the three barbs on the seal’s hooks. Just enough to draw blood. And then he was no longer in the imagined sea, with its tempting hook, he was a young human. It took a bit of time to rouse Noburu’s body from sleep, and then he had to adjust to the mass difference.  
  
Isobu usually weighed hundreds of tons, the idea of being less than one seemed preposterous.  
  
He roused himself from Noburu’s bed and soundlessly left the room the boy shared with Haruki. As he moved, he realized his eyes cast a golden glow -- it helped him see in the dark, at least. The bijuu in human shape strode the tent without disturbing a fold of fabric or a grain of sand. He was part of nature -- he was the sea, given thought and motivation. Humans never really gave thought to how the bijuu could exist without disturbing nature -- unaware that the two were one in the same.  
  
His glowing eyes let him immediately see his target -- one of the pictures displayed on a small table. The family portrait of the Jiang family. While he held it, he felt he could almost slip into Noburu’s memories. He’d been so small he didn’t know his parents weren’t really squishing him, it made for a cute photo though. Jirou’s horns and his unnatural paleness reminded Isobu of someone -- but the memory was fuzzy. Back further than the Sage’s time, when there had only been one bijuu.  
  
None of them liked to remember that time, when they had been ten-tails. Much better was when Hagaromo had split them, and gave them names. Nature hadn’t appreciated being a part of them, it treated them like a parasite. But as the nine, they were welcomed.  
  
Noburu’s memories of Jirou weren’t pleasant. The man had been in horrible pain every waking moment by the time Noburu became old enough to really remember him. And when Jirou wasn’t in pain, he was drunk -- specifically because of the pain. But by foolish proxy, Isobu looked at Noburu’s father and could imagine his own.  
  
“Noburu?” A woman’s voice -- Akami spoke sleepily as she left her room. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”  
  
“Noburu is sleeping right now,” Isobu told her with a distinct enough voice that there could be no confusion. “We haven’t spoken, you and I.”  
  
He turned, and cast his glowing gold eyes on her. Her face had tightened, her fist was clenched. She looked both terrified and furious. With deft ease, Isobu set the picture down where he’d gotten it.  
  
“Thank you,” he told the human woman, and bowed to her. “When you decided not to abandon Noburu, it helped him not resent me. I didn’t want to be placed within him, and I don’t think he wanted to be my jinchuuriki.”  
  
Akami was quiet, though her expression made it clear she had things she _wanted_ to say. “I wanted to hate you,” she told him with a small nod. “I really did. But the more I thought about it… you didn’t want to be in a human body, the village did. They wanted a weapon. They put you into my son so they could forget he was a person.” She leaned on the table, and she seemed lost in memory. “They called him _theirs_. Like he was property.” Suddenly her sharp gaze snapped to Isobu. “And I’m betting they’d been treating you like that for a long time.”  
  
“Aye.”  
  
Akami was quiet for a long time. “Is that all we needed to talk about? My boy needs his sleep.”  
  
Isobu shook his head and sat down. “There is one more thing. Please sit.” When Akami did, Isobu steepled Noburu’s hands. “Noburu has told me that, in a few years, a demon will be summoned from hell. We must not speak its name, or it will reach out to us in dreams. Noburu and Kousuke think that mere strength of arms can defeat a demon, but it is not so.”  
  
Akami blinked, stunned. “Wait… an actual demon?”  
  
Isobu nodded.  
  
“From literal hell?”  
  
Isobu nodded.  
  
“And my son is thinking of fighting this actual demon from literal hell?”  
  
Isobu nodded a third time.  
  
Akami sighed and dragged her hand across her face. “I should have known this sort of thing would have happened when he was born a boy.” She shook her head and looked out over the top of her hand. “Never would have that kind of nonsense from a daughter.”  
  
Isobu sighed. “I’m talking to you about this… because only the gods can directly fight demons and win.” He looked out in the direction of the Kaizoku, and lamented that he heard nothing. “And they have hidden themselves away, likely never to return. Only a few have the strength to survive a human-dominated world, and none would deign to help us.”  
  
“Why are you telling me this?” Akami looked confused and wary. “Are...you asking me to figure out how to summon a god, or something?”  
  
“If the goddess of the Kaizoku Sea could be woken from her slumber, that would help a lot. But no.” Isobu took a deep breath. “Depending on if a strong enough seal can be developed…”  
  
“No,” Akami said, warning.  
  
“It might be necessary....”  
  
“No no no,” Akami shook her head, her tone turning from warning to anger.  
  
“For us to seal the demon within a compatible host. I don’t know if Noburu could house us _both_... but he could definitely house one of us.”  
  
Akami grabbed Isobu by Noburu’s pajama shirt. Her face was a visage of terrifying fury. “If you are trying to coerce my son into being a host for an _actual_ demon, just so _you_ can go free --”  
  
“By the time the demon is summoned, he will be a grown man.” Isobu didn’t hide away from Akami’s glare. “Able to make his own choice. But… we don’t know what sealing an actual demon into a human will do. Noburu was never going to tell you. I thought you deserved the right to know, and decide how to spend your time together better.”  
  
Akami looked so frustrated that she was close to violence, but moments later she sighed and calmed down. “The goddess of the Kaizoku Sea… what can you tell me about her?”  
  
Isobu blinked, and parsed the question slowly -- it had taken him by surprise. “Um. Her name is Hakugei, she is unique among water gods in that she does not take the animal shape of a dragon… why?”  
  
“Because if the choice is letting my son become host to an actual demon from literal hell, or waking up a sleeping goddess to fight it, I know which one I’ll do.” Akami nodded resolutely and went to her kitchen. “Do you happen to know her favorite food?”  
  
“Um. Kraken, and other squids?”  
  
Akami nodded and opened her cookbook. “Alright. Time to work on a recipe which will wake the gods from their sleep.”  
  
\--  
  
Genin Uzumaki.  
  
Kushina suddenly found herself pulled out of her dream and falling through a black void into the hateful eye of the nine-tails. She expected to see its teeth soon thereafter, but instead she fell into the black pupil and kept going.  
  
She wound up in a void that was lit like a stage, with nothing beyond the light’s touch. Not at all what she’d been expecting.  
  
“What the hell was that?” She shouted up at the source of the light. “I was winning that eating contest! I was going to be the waffle princess! Give me back my waffles!”  
  
A soft, elderly woman’s chuckle snapped Kushina out of her dream’s echos. She looked around, and saw Mito. Just like when she’d seen the fox be sealed up. The elderly Uzumaki with the two hair buns waved. “Hello again, Kushina.”  
  
“Grandma Mito!” Kushina’s foul mood melted like ice, and she ran to hug her kinswoman. “I thought you were in the seal with the fox?”  
  
“I am,” the older woman confirmed with a sad smile. “But I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Mito stepped aside and revealed another person in the strange spotlight realm. A chubby boy about Kushina’s age, with skin of different colors, brown slit-like eyes, much like Orochimaru-sensei’s, dressed in the style of Kirigakure.  
  
Immediately, Kushina went on the defensive. “You -- you’re one of those Kiri ninja.” Lamenting the lack of knives to murder him with, Kushina instead stood between Mito and the barbarian. “How did you trick Grandma Mito into letting you in here?”  
  
“I didn’t,” the boy said, with narrowed eyes. “This is the bijuu space. You’re here because Kurama allows you to be so. She’s here because Kurama allows it. And I’m here because Isobu allows it.” He indicated each of them in turn, then crossed his arms.  
  
“Kushina,” Mito said and patted the girl’s head softly. “Be a bit more polite, hmm? You’re representing our clan poorly by being so aggressive.”  
  
“Wha?” Kushina looked up at Mito and gestured to the boy. “But he’s a Kiri nin! He helped destroy our nation!”  
  
“Okay -- how would I do that when I’m your age?” The boy arched an eyebrow. “I’ve been Isobu’s jinchuuriki for almost three months now, before that I was just some kid learning to be a cook like my mom.”  
  
“You still chose to become a Kiri ninja!” Kushina spat the words like venom, and swept her hand through the air. “You chose to help them do that to other people!”  
  
“Kushina….” Mito scolded her.  
  
“No, I didn’t.” The boy rolled his eyes. “Kiri was losing the war, so they conscripted the foot caste’s children. I was forced to join Kiri.”  
  
That… sounded right, but Kushina didn’t care. She shook her head so she didn’t have to think on it too much. “That doesn’t matter! You still became a Kiri nin, you’re evil and will be forever!”  
  
“Kushina!” Mito raised her voice. Her pleasant smile was gone when Kushina looked at her. She was about to launch into a lecture, Kushina could tell, when the boy cut her off.  
  
“I know how you’re feeling, you know.” The boy uncrossed his arms and looked at her without even a shred of pity. The first time anyone except Orochimaru-sensei had done that. “The adults all told you nothing was wrong, but you could see the smoke. You could hear the fighting.”  
  
Kushina’s rage froze, and left her speechless.  
  
“Then they stop pretending nothing is wrong as soon as they run into bodies in the streets.” There was a moment of silence while the boy and Kushina looked at each other. “You’re so afraid of what’s going to happen -- you don’t even think about it really. Everyone you don’t immediately recognize makes you afraid -- are they the enemy? What does the enemy look like? How will I know who to run away from?”  
  
Mito was quiet, and watched the two of them talk.  
  
“The anger doesn’t come for a long time. Maybe you watched another kid get angry and get themselves killed, maybe you were too afraid, maybe you just shut down because it’s too much too fast.” He shrugged. “The anger comes after you’re out of the city. When you’re able to look around and see who made it, and who didn’t. You’re angry at them for getting themselves killed.”  
  
“Shut up,” Kushina said, as memories came back.  
  
“Or you’re angry at the enemy for attacking people who _obviously_ didn’t deserve it.”  
  
“Shut up!” Her voice was panicked -- it was like she was back there.  
  
“Or maybe you’re angry at yourself. Because, you could have done something, said something, but you didn’t.” His flat delivery and pitiless eyes reminded Kushina of how she’d seen others from Uzushiogakure look in the days after. It was all too much.  
  
Kushina launched herself at the boy when he wouldn’t _stop_. Fists flew without her stopping to think -- she just had to get the boy and the memories to _shut up_. “Stop talking! Stop looking at me with those eyes! You weren’t there, you don’t know how I feel! Kiri deserved what it got -- Uzushio didn’t! Our experiences aren’t the same.”  
  
No matter how many times she hit the boy, he didn’t seem hurt. Her arms never seemed tired, either. She could have kept it up forever, it felt like. But eventually his lack of responses made her slow down and eventually stop.  
  
Mito took the time to step between the two of them and look sternly down at them both. “Noburu here was once a buddha,” she said sharply.  
  
“For like fifteen seconds,” he clarified with a sardonic tone.  
  
“So he remembers his past lives. That’s how he knows what you’re feeling -- not because of Kiri.” Mito glared over at the boy. “You didn’t have to provoke her like that.”  
  
“Hey punching things is a great way to deal with stress,” Noburu said with a shrug. “Plus, here she can’t actually hurt me with her punches.”  
  
Kushina’s brain had stopped while she processed. “You… past lives?”  
  
Noburu looked at her with his pitiless eyes again. “Past lives.” He nodded, as if it explained everything. “It’s happened a few times, really. But the one I’ll never forget was Carthage, when the Romans came. They salted our soils, tore down our walls, and burned our city to the ground.”  
  
She remembered the sound when Uzushiogakure’s walls had been pulled down with enemy ninjutsu. They cracked so loud she could hear them from the other side of the village, and then caused a gust of wind when they struck the ground. The walls had always made her feel safe -- and when they were gone… it was a struggle to feel safe ever since. Even Konoha’s walls didn’t work, they looked just as strong as Uzushio’s -- and she’d seen how Uzushio’s walls could break.  
  
“Why?” She asked the question before she even really thought about what he’d said.  
  
“Smart people with books would tell you a bunch of reasons for the war. But from what I saw, serving as their slave for the rest of my life? We had made them look foolish. I don’t even really know how we’d done that, or when.” Noburu shrugged.  
  
Kushina wondered if her village had done something like that. If they’d made the other villages look foolish somehow, with their sealing mastery, which justified their attack.  
  
“I didn’t come here to talk about dead homelands, though.” Noburu put his hands on his hips and leaned forward. “Though -- you should know something about why Kurama hates humans now. Mito and I wanted to teach you how to put the fox to sleep -- music.”  
  
That stunned Kushina out of her musings. “Eh?”  
  
Mito nodded, and smiled. “You remember the song you heard singing during the sealing? That was me, Noburu, and another jinchuuriki.”  
  
“Wait….” Kushina pointed at Noburu, confused. “Jinchuuriki can… mentally talk to one another?”  
  
“The bijuu can, and they let us use this when they wish,” Noburu said, and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Can you sing?”  
  
“Eh?”  
  
“Oh great. Going to have to rely on Mito’s singing and catchy tunes, then.” Noburu rubbed his eyes. “Alright -- Kurama really likes melancholy music. Which might not be to your taste -- “  
  
“Which is fine,” Mito added in.  
  
“Which is fine,” Noburu confirmed. “But they like melancholy music, which helps them sleep. You want Kurama to sleep, or they can mess up your chakra control on purpose.”  
  
“Wait, what?!” Kushina shouted, then looked at Mito. “You didn’t tell me that!”  
  
“Why do you think I retired from being a medic?” Mito sweat a little under her younger kinswoman’s glare. “The fox messed with the fine control I needed to do my work.”  
  
“I need precise chakra control for sealing jutsu too!”  
  
“Not as precise as medical work, dear. Sealing jutsu only requires adequate chakra control, you’ll be fine either way.”  
  
“Grandma Mito that’s mean!”  
  
Noburu clapped his hands. “Alright -- enough of that. Let’s start with basic Sound of Music stuff. Do re mi, and all that stuff.”  
  
\---  
  
Cast:  
  
Shibi Aburame: The son of the Aburame clan head, though his older cousin is currently the heir due to Shibi's youth. A genjutsu type shinobi, his clan's hidden jutsu allow him to have frightening anti-genjutsu and anti-ninjutsu prowess even as a genin. He's a young, stoic kid who is perfectly aware of emotions but has tight internal regulations about when he allows himself to feel them. He loves to create geometric patterns, and has learned how to speak with non-Aburame insects.  
Hizashi Hyuga: Younger son of the current Hyuga clan head. He is of the branch family, serving the clan head's bloodline. A taijutsu specialist, Hizashi has begun to learn taijutsu styles outside the Gentle Fist to increase his effectiveness. He is strongly bitter about his place in the clan, and his brother in particular. He is a stoic and has nowhere he can safely express his emotions and has to forcibly suppress them. Previously, his jounin sensei was Taito Inuzuka. The two had a good relationship which might have been soured by Hizashi being swapped with his brother.  
Kushina Uzumaki: A survivor of Uzushiogakure. Since her village fell, Kushina has had to keep her anger close at hand to help her show others she isn't a weakling who can be pushed around for their benefit. She has a deep and completely justified hatred of the villages which destroyed Whirlpool Country, and Kirigakure in particular. She gets sealing jutsu in a way few can, and it is widely expected she will take sealing jutsu in new and unexpected ways when she matures.  
Mito Uzumaki: The late wife of the First Hokage. She remained in seclusion after the First's death, and rarely made public appearances. She once was a medical ninja, but retired shortly after marriage. With her death, the Senju clan no longer had a presence in the village -- with their old properties being put up for sale. It was widely believed she had been injured prior to her retirement, though rumors of the First Hokage being a spousal abuser persisted until he died. Mito refused to answer any questions about her retirement, and her will stated that all her personal diaries and other personal writings be burned with her on her funeral pyre, per Uzushiogakure custom. She is survived by her granddaughter Tsunade of the Sannin.  
  
\---  
  
The sleep of reason produces monsters.  
  
The sleep of gods produces nightmares.  
  
... **When you know notes to sing~ You can sing 'most an-y-thing~**


	23. Complication

**Ch 23: Complication**  
  
\---  
  
Legendary Sannin Orochimaru.  
  
Orochimaru sat up while he watched his students sleep. He’d found a technique which let him sleep for as little as twenty-minutes and be mentally rested. It didn’t help chakra replenishment, but on a mission where being aware for prolonged periods was needed -- it helped save his life more than once.  
  
After Shibi had dropped a byakugan-shaped bomb on the four of them, Hizashi had been difficult. In Orochimaru’s eyes, it was completely justified -- the boy had been maimed with a seal to protect a bloodline that had clearly been insecure from the outset. Orochimaru had sent a messenger snake back to Konoha with a three-prong seal which only the Sannin and Sarutobi-sensei had the knowledge to break. Inside was a message for the Hokage.  
  
“What we have discovered could cause the Hyuga to revolt. Take precautions.”  
  
Hizashi’s sleep wasn’t peaceful. Orochimaru watched the boy toss and turn and pondered what he could do. The easiest path forward would be to break the Caged Bird Seal, and release the branch family Hyuga from their near-enslavement. Sarutobi-sensei would never allow it, he was too wedded to tradition.  
  
Why else would Sarutobi-sensei have taken a wife and fathered children, when everyone knew his heart belonged to Danzo Shimura?  
  
But when Orochimaru became Hokage -- things could be changed. But that would take time, precious time during which Hizashi and others would suffer needlessly. People like Hizashi. Possibly people like his nephew.  
  
His nephew who was afraid of him. His nephew who had watched Orochimaru lash his sensei and his sensei’s friends with killing intent throughout the discussion. That was another issue he’d have to resolve.  
  
Was that why Sarutobi-sensei had given him Hizashi to be one of his genin? Did the man have some self-awareness of his fault, but lacked the will to change it? He’d never known Sarutobi-sensei to be a coward, but if the man had intended for Orochimaru to see Hizashi’s pain and do something about it there was no alternative.  
  
That line of thinking made Orochimaru tense with a sudden realization.  
  
Sarutobi-sensei had said Noburu had seen things he shouldn’t have been able to. Mother had been much the same, and she never opened her eyes. She’d never opened her eyes, yet she could see perfectly well.  
  
His mother had the byakugan too. Orochimaru just hadn’t inherited it.  
  
Noburu was his nephew in the immediate sense, but more than likely Hizashi and the Hyuga clan in general were his extended family.  
  
Orochimaru spent hours while he watched his students sleep pondering everything he knew about his mother. She hadn’t told him where she came from, but could tell Orochimaru from exactly where his father had come. His father was from Fire Country -- on the border with Hot Water Country, a village destroyed by war. But he couldn’t find any details about her from his memory.  
  
Perhaps Noburu would know, since he’d known Orochimaru’s brother more than Orochimaru had.  
  
When the sun rose, Orochimaru’s messenger snake returned with a sealed reply from the Hokage.  
  
“Precautions are in place. Sitrep as soon as possible.”  
  
As the genin woke and made ready for the day, Orochimaru jotted down some information on the reply scroll with the clear caveat that he had yet to meet either jinchuuriki or see the village itself. He had just handed hand it over to the messenger snake when he heard a knock at the door.  
  
Orochimaru answered it, and found a short woman with heavy bags under her eyes and an overall frazzled look standing there.  
  
“Lord Orochimaru,” she said with a bow. “I’m Suzume Ruan. I was part of the design team who helped developed the Seal of Hooks.”  
  
“Lovely to make your acquaintance,” Orochimaru responded with a bow.  
  
“Likewise. I was part of the development team which developed the seal for the three-tails, and since it is… unlikely for the jinchuuriki to approve an inspection, I thought I could show you the notes we used on the seal?”  
  
Orochimaru arched his brow. Why did they send someone like this to volunteer the information? “That would be helpful,” he smiled at her, disarming. “But I would also like to chat with Noburu at some point. Maybe we can have lunch?”  
  
Suzume started to develop sweat on her brow, her hands shook a little. “Um. I could… pass that along. But, for now -- please come with me to the meeting room?”  
  
Orochimaru’s smile widened, and he formed a hand sign. In a puff of smoke, a second Orochimaru appeared behind him, while the original stepped out and closed the door. “Lead the way.”  
  
Suzume did as requested, and showed Orochimaru back to the meeting room, where several scrolls were laid out on the table. There were no visible ninja in the room, other than Orochimaru and Suzume. That was odd, for documents as sensetive as the seals on a jinchuuriki.  
  
As he opened one scroll and began to read notes on the Seal of Hooks which his nephew was bound with, he began to sus out why. They didn’t want anyone but Suzume to face Orochimaru’s wrath for such a _barbaric_ design. The wretched seal didn’t even have a release built in -- it was designed to fade after death, and only after death.  
  
Killing intent radiated off of Orochimaru like smoke from a fire, his otherwise calm and pleasant smile betrayed by the overwhelming desire to kill. Suzume sat with her back hunched and her head down -- she had to know who was the target for such intent.  
  
Orochimaru calmly wrapped the scroll back up and set it down. He leaned back and looked at Suzume with his hands interlocked in his lap. “I must say this seal seems to be… of less quality than I or anyone in Konoha would like for our ally’s jinchuuriki.”  
  
“I understand,” Suzume mumbled. She did not lift her head.  
  
“At any moment, the three-tails could devour the boy’s mind and,” Orochimaru raised his eyebrows and snapped his fingers, “gone. That young man would effectively be dead.” His nephew could be dead, and made into a maddened husk by the bijuu at literally any second.  
  
“Correct.” Suzume did not lift her head. “He… says that the bijuu knows it’s a trap.”  
  
“Ah.” Orochimaru nodded as if he understood. “And… where is the rest of the design team? I saw close to a dozen names on that list.”  
  
“They were deployed to the front during the civil war.”  
  
Ah. That explained a lot. “I will, of course, need to review all these ancillary notes.” Orochimaru picked up a scroll marked with Uzushiogakure’s symbol. “Quite excited to read this one, by the way. But first….” Orochimaru bit his thumb and quickly summoned his messenger snake again. “I’m sorry for making you do all this work, Hosenka,” Orochimaru said as he wrote another message and applied the three-pronged seal of secrecy.  
  
“Lord Hokage is most generous with his meals for messengers, my Lord,” the red-scaled snake replied and coiled around the scroll once it was offered. “I may have to diet soon….” She vanished in a puff of smoke.  
  
Orochimaru could just imagine how his previous message, along with the new one, and the one he had sent with the sitrep, would likely cause something of a stir in the Hokage’s office.  
  
He had written: “Three-tails seal FUBAR, send Jiraiya and FES notes ASAP.”  
  
Not done yet, Orochimaru summoned another messenger snake. A rattler with golden scales arrived to take his message. ‘Please come to Wave Country, I need your help,’ it read. “Please seek out Princess Tsunade, and give her this,” he told the rattler as he sealed what he wrote with the three-prong seal of secrecy.  
  
“I will do as you ask, but it may take time, Lord Orochimaru.” The rattler took the scroll and vanished in a puff of smoke.  
  
“Mistakes like this,” Orochimaru said and tapped the scroll with notes about the Seal of Hooks, “are expensive to fix. Kumo has learned that, and apparently Kiri needed to learn it too. With luck, it can _be_ fixed, or at least refitted. Shall I assume Kousuke’s seal is much the same?”  
  
Suzume shook her head, and still did not lift it up. “The sealing jutsu used for him was stolen from Uzushiogakure, but no details on it beyond that survived.”  
  
“Well, at least _one_ of your jinchuuriki is not at risk of rampaging.”  
  
\--  
  
Mother Jiang.  
  
Akami spent a good bit of time keeping the two boys in her tent from killing each other with stupid boy things. Stuff like ‘use your chakra to keep water from spilling out of a cup when you turn it upside down’. In any other season, that would fly. In winter, when wet clothes could kill people, it was stupid.  
  
Junko, the sweet girl, was a great help at keeping the boys in line. Akami liked her, even if she was strange.  
  
However, she disliked how her son just had to sit and watch when their sensei came by to train Haruki and Junko in swordsmanship. He was the only one on his team without a sword, so that was something he just had to watch and not participate in.  
  
She remembered how it had been as a child to be excluded from things just because she was foot caste and poor. She’d only been able to go to Honey Country and learn how to cook by happenstance. And it irked her to see her son going through that same experience and there not be any way she could help. Swords weren’t falling from the heavens, and all spare metal was used by the village construction effort.  
  
In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t important. Noburu had plenty of advantages already. But in the minor scheme of things, it seemed like one more area where she couldn’t be the mother she wished to be. Worst of all, she couldn’t be certain that if she could go back in time the situation would be different.  
  
It made her realize that a lot of the time she’d spent with her son was out of her control. So the things she could control -- she would manipulate ruthlessly. Pursuant to that, she worked twice as hard at the cooking station to get everyone their food in a timely manner -- fresh supplies from Konoha made it a lot easier to cook for a whole settlement. She kept telling herself, the moment she was done she was going to sit with her boy, maybe his teammates, and she’d… she’d… she didn’t know. They were a bit old for games, but too young to drink. Maybe she could ask Noburu to share a story?  
  
He seemed positively full of those.  
  
Something she saw when she handed a bowl of rice and tempura fish to a civilian made her almost drop her wok. A pale figure with long black hair in the crowd. “Jirou?” She signaled for another chef to take over the rice and ducked around the tables to go after them. “Jirou?!”  
  
Had he come back? Was he back from Sea Country? Had he finally found what he needed to find?  
  
“Jirou, is that you?” Already, as she approached, she could see differences but the hope, the possibility of it being her husband made her forget them as soon as she saw them.  
  
It wasn’t until the figure turned, and she saw a Konoha headband, and piercing gold eyes that it really hit home -- that was not Jirou.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she hastily apologized. “You reminded me of someone.”  
  
The man chuckled, and smiled pleasantly. “Well… that’s the first time I’ve heard that before.”  
  
With him was Suzume, and one of the Seven Swordsmen -- the one with the big nose, Akami couldn’t recall his name.  
  
“You must be Akami Jiang, yes?” The Konoha nin smiled wider and bowed. “Hello, I’m Orochimaru. I’m your husband’s younger brother.”  
  
Someone who had been drinking sake nearby suddenly began to choke on their drink. A woman sewing a hole in some trousers nearby stabbed herself with her needle in shock. The Swordsman who had escorted the Konoha nin, Orochimaru, grew so visibly pale he resembled a sheet of paper.  
  
“Wh… what?” Akami was stunned. She’d heard of the Sannin -- everyone who did business with ninja had heard of the Sannin. But she’d never seen them, or even suspected that Jirou might be related to one. But as she looked at Orochimaru, and his charming smile, it was like a ghost of Jirou was laid over him. Add horns, add that flap of skin along his cheeks, change the color of the eyes… it was spot on. High cheek bones, pale skin, discoloration around the eyes, verticle pupils… he even had the same sort of smile Jirou did.  
  
“I was just as surprised as you to find out I had family.” The man looked up to Akami’s tent, marked with the banner of a turtle. “Could… we talk? In private?”  
  
Akami led him and the jounin to her tent, while her mind whirled at the upheaval. Her husband had a brother. Well, she’d expected he’d had one in the past -- given he was named Jirou. But the idea of a younger brother hadn’t crossed her mind. Jirou hadn’t even talked about where his parents had gone when they left Wave.  
  
Orochimaru and the big-nosed Oto jounin stood while Akami went and put water to boil for their tea.  
  
“Please, have a seat,” she said while she got the teapot ready. “It will be ready soon.”  
  
Akami watched Orochimaru look around, and then fixate on the pictures on display. “Is… that him?” The legendary ninja asked, soft.  
  
Akami stepped away from the kettle to look at the photo and Orochimaru. For just a second, she thought she’d seen a glimpse of disbelief on his face. She picked up the photo of Jirou, herself, and Noburu, and handed it to him. “Yeah. His name is Jirou. Born here in  
Wave. Did… your parents not have any photos of him?”  
  
Orochimaru shook his head and looked at the picture. “Was he ill?”  
  
“Yes,” Akami answered and returned to the tea. “The doctors said it was the precursor to a kekkei genkai which he wouldn’t see the benefit from. He… was in a lot of pain, most of the time. Between us is our son… Noburu.” Noburu had an uncle. She hadn’t thought of her son having more family since Yuuko died. It seemed a foregone conclusion that he’d be alone once Akami passed. But no longer!  
  
The jounin -- Jinin -- served mostly to make sure Orochimaru remained pleasant and peaceful while Akami and Orochimaru talked about Jirou. She told the Sannin how they had met, and about some of the stories Jirou had shared with her about his past. Meanwhile, Orochimaru shared stories about her parents in law. It turned out Noburu had inherited his discolored skin from his grandfather!  
  
While all their conversations had to be taken with a grain of salt -- Orochimaru’s legend portrayed him as a dangerous ninja with viper-like reflexes -- Akami hoped that Noburu and his new uncle would get along.  
  
Naturally, it wasn’t going to be even close to as easy as that.  
  
Orochimaru and her talked across the table with tea, and she noticed his mood dampen as they got closer to talking about Noburu.  
  
“There’s… an issue with his seal. It’s not very well put together -- because the Mizukage kept sending people making it to die in the war,” Orochimaru started.  
  
“Former director Ruan showed him the seal’s design notes,” Jinin commented. “Before he came to ask Noburu if he could look at the seal directly.”  
  
“Yes.” Orochimaru met Akami’s eyes with a neutral look. “The seal, as it is now, puts Noburu at risk. I’ve called in experts who will hopefully be able to either replace the seal, or fix what’s wrong with it.”  
  
Akami’s blood ran cold. She remembered that the spirit within her boy had the ability to possess him and speak to her. Those glowing gold eyes which made her feel like something small which had gained the attention of a giant, they haunted her. “What… what’s wrong with his seal?”  
  
“There is not enough of a barrier between the beast and Noburu. It might be why he’s able to use its coral powers so well, since normally only the bijuu itself can do that. But it does pose a risk to Noburu.”  
  
She nodded, as her silent fears were confirmed. “The bijuu… from what Noburu’s told me, he’s a lot calmer than we’re lead to believe.”  
  
“And that might be true.” Orochimaru nodded. “But the differences between their two minds could have unknown effects -- seals with this weak of a barrier aren’t meant to hold creatures that big. A second seal, on top of the first, may be needed.”  
  
Akami reflected on that. A second seal wouldn’t be so bad, perhaps. Noburu could, hopefully, still talk to the spirit and keep him happy by way of reefs.  
  
“Furthermore… we may need to do blood tests.” Orochimaru had the decency to look hesitant about that. “There… is a chance that he might be related to others from Konoha, based on the abilities he’s displayed.”  
  
Akami’s eyes narrowed. “Go on….”  
  
She got the feeling she wasn’t going to like that new revelation any more than the previous ones.  
  
\---  
  
Slightly shorter than usual, terribly sorry!


	24. Lapis Philosophorum

**Ch 24: Lapis Philosophorum**  
  
\---  
  
Legendary Sannin Orochimaru  
  
At last the time had come to meet Noburu himself. Orochimaru had that voice in his head screaming again, even as he had his sister-in-law’s support. He couldn’t afford to lower his guard totally, but he’d found it hard to hear about his brother and remain in that cold headspace where he could kill everyone around him and feel nothing. Perhaps that had been why Sarutobi-sensei advised him not to marry, family could draw a shinobi out of the place where they were most effective.  
  
But Orochimaru didn’t exactly _mind_ that. After Sarutobi-sensei had spent years making Orochimaru unable to feel at ease around him, and Tsunade had left, things had been… unpleasant. He was suddenly the foremost medical-ninja in the village on top of a researcher, on top of an elite soldier, on top of the target of more fear than anyone else in the village bar none.  
  
Even his students were afraid of him, though he hoped he could chip away at that. But not Akami. She looked at him, and he saw the fear leave her. Perhaps he more strongly resembled his brother than the pictures indicated -- perhaps that was why she and he had married. But it was refreshing to see someone new look at him without fear.  
  
He hoped Noburu could become the same way. Being feared was good for his reputation, but it… wasn’t terrible to have people who weren’t afraid of him.  
  
He sat in the Jiang tent while Akami fetched Noburu, with Jinin there to make sure he didn’t do as ninja ought and steal information, plant explosives, or just slip away.  
  
The big-nosed man had his eyes squarely focused on Orochimaru’s profile while the Sannin watched the entrance to the tent. “Medical director Ruan tells me you had strong words about our seals.”  
  
“What I saw in the architecture of the Seal of Hooks made it seem totally unsuited to a bijuu’s weight-class,” Orochimaru replied, perfectly pleasant. “What I saw of the notes about its execution made me think I don’t want my nephew to have to rely on a seal he was intended to stress test and die to.”  
  
Jinin flinched visibly. “I was not involved in the decision to make him the jinchuuriki.”  
  
“If you were, you’d be in pieces all over the ground by now.” Orochimaru flicked his gaze over to the Oto jounin with a concentrated spear of killing intent so dire the man paled visibly. “How fortunate for you that you weren’t.” His conversational tone of voice never wavered.  
  
Jinin remained tight-lipped for the rest of their wait.  
  
Akami returned to the tent with the bespectacled lad, who did not look pleased. He took a look at Orochimaru, then at Jinin, then sat at the point of the table furthest from them and sighed. “What do you want?”  
  
His mother nudged him, but didn’t offer any verbal rebuke. She sat near him, perhaps so Noburu could know she was on his side.  
  
Orochimaru hadn’t expected that sort of question. His nephew sounded… exasperated, but Orochimaru could tell from his body language -- minor tremors in his fingers, paling skin as the blood vessels closed, and unsteady breath -- that the boy was absolutely terrified. It seemed easy to connect that the exasperation was a mask to make it easier to function with the fear. The Sannin took a step toward difusing the situation by giving the boy something to focus on.  
  
“I wanted to speak to you… on a variety of topics really, but specifically about your father. My… older brother.”  
  
Noburu snorted, and jerked his thumb at Akami. “Mom knows more about him than I do. Ask her.”  
  
Akami’s frown made Orochimaru slightly worried. “I was hoping for your perspective on him, really.”  
  
“Alright, opinion-based stuff. I can do that. He’s a deadbeat, and he more than likely ditched us so he could kill himself. There, done.” He shrugged.  
  
Akami’s frown became an expression of outrage. “Noburu!”  
  
Noburu didn’t even flinch under his mother’s stare. “I’m the one who stayed with him while you went to work,” he said and pointed at his mother. “And guess what? He wasn’t very talkative. He barely got out of bed. The only time he even acknowledged I was there? So that I could get him more sake from the fridge.”  
  
Orochimaru’s picture of his brother’s character began to become more complete, in a way he never even imagined it would go.  
  
“At least he was a sleepy drunk.” Noburu sounded so bitter, it was shocking to hear from a child. “I didn’t get beat, I didn’t get screamed at, not like how Yuuko got it from her mom. With dad, we just had to find ways to kill the boredom and that was that.”  
  
The Sannin spoke up. “And… you think he killed himself?”  
  
“You live long enough, you start to notice the signs.” Noburu’s bitter tone lessened but did not totally go away. “The week before he left, he got unreasonably happy. He’d go without alcohol for longer than I’d literally ever seen before. He’d talk to me. That alone was a red flag.”  
  
“Noburu, he was your _father_ , of course he would speak to you,” Akami said, hurt.  
  
“And it happened so little that when he started I knew something was wrong. Funny how that works.” Noburu’s glasses made it hard to be certain of his emotion, but from eyebrow position and mouth orientation -- Orochimaru guessed he glared at Akami. After a moment the boy turned back to Orochimaru. “So yeah. I suspect he found a cliff and jumped. Happy?”  
  
Orochimaru didn’t feel anything. On some level, he knew that his brother’s sudden decision to leave for a far-off land like Sea Country was suspicious. For someone with severe chronic pain, travel on his own seemed impossible. One part of him hoped his brother’s pain was over, another was sad they’d likely never meet, and a third saw the bitterness in his nephew and wanted to hate his brother for fostering it.  
  
“Not really,” Orochimaru asked, honestly. “But… I’m sorry. You did not deserve to be abandoned like that.”  
  
Noburu didn’t say anything, but he avoided his mother’s hurt gaze. Perhaps he had not shared his thoughts about Jirou with anyone until that point. Perhaps Akami had expected Noburu to lie about his father. Perhaps Noburu actually had lied about his father. It was something Orochimaru would have to think about.  
  
“...If I tell you how to achieve immortality will you leave me alone?” Noburu held his head in his hands as he looked at the table rather than Orochimaru. “That’s what you want… right? To live long enough to meet your parents’ reincarnations? ...Well, grandma and grandpa, I guess.”  
  
Orochimaru’s eyes widened, his pupils narrowed to slits, and he instinctively formed fists so tight his knuckles popped. Sarutobi-sensei hadn’t lied about the boy’s knowledge -- no one, literally no one, besides Orochimaru knew that about himself. However, his mood was misread by the jounin and Akami, who tried to calm the situation down and implied that perhaps food should be served respectively.  
  
“I’m listening,” Orochimaru answered the question.  
  
“That’s not a yes,” Noburu pointed out.  
  
“And it’s also not a no. I’m listening.”  
  
\--  
  
Legendary Sannin Jiraiya  
  
When a man is off enjoying his free time on finding inspiration for his next book, it takes a great deal of effort to pry him away. Sarutobi-sensei had never been the one to do so except in emergencies, so when the Hokage asked Jiraiya to leave his peeping -- something had to be wrong.  
  
The sealed note from Orochimaru was evidence enough for Jiraiya to forgive Sarutobi-sensei. Orochimaru didn’t ask for help every day of the week, it was a rare occasion to be savored. Or a harbinger of a situation that was about to go into a death spiral. Quickly Jiraiya rushed to his apartment to gather scrolls and reference materials for sealing a bijuu. And the Five Element Seal notes, Orochimaru had specifically asked for those.  
  
However, when he reached for it, he found it gone. As he turned around he saw Sarutobi-sensei on the opposite wall of his office with the scroll unwound. “I don’t remember this seal,” Sarutobi-sensei muttered as he continued to read. “It’s a powerfully built one, when were you going to tell me about it?”  
  
“When it was done, sensei,” Jiraiya sighed and tried to snatch the scroll from his teacher. The older man was canny enough to avoid Jiraiya’s swipes with ease. “Sensei every second counts, if Orochimaru says the kid’s seal is FUBAR.”  
  
“I’m reading,” Sarutobi-sensei explained as if that justified it. “This seal could easily hold a bijuu, why were you and Orochimaru so secretive about it.” The man unwound the scroll and froze mid-step.  
  
“I’m guessing you just saw why.” The toad sage sighed. “The Five Elements Unseal uses the same archetype as the sealing jutsu, but it can be used to disrupt and destroy seals equal or lesser than it in strength. And right now only the Reaper’s seal is stronger.”  
  
“With such a jutsu, you could break the seal on any jinchuuriki from any village.” Sarutobi’s eyes were hard as steel when they met Jiraiya’s over the edge of the scroll. “Or break any number of powerful seals.”  
  
“That’s why Orochimaru and I wanted it to be kept secret.” The toad sage scratched his head through his spiky white hair. His eyes were fixed on the floor. “We were worried that, if you and the Council knew about the unsealing jutsu, you’d send the both of us off to break the seals on all the jinchuuriki the next time a war breaks out.”  
  
Sarutobi’s hard gaze remained when Jiraiya looked back at him, but it softened over time. The Hokage rolled up the scroll and sealed it once more. “I understand that it’s hard to hear the Council delight over the news about the eight-tails rampages and Kumo’s casualties. I understand you’re hesitant to purposefully inflict that on anyone, even our enemies. But -- “  
  
“It’s not just that.” Jiraiya sighed again, frustrated. “To break a seal you usually need a key, or to know how the seal works. But with Five Elements Unseal… you slap it on, and bam. Broken seal.” Jiraiya met his teacher’s eyes with a haunted expression. “It’s a jutsu that only the most elite jounin and above can do. So we won’t have the ability to hit every village with a jinchuuriki at the same time. Word would spread, and then everyone would know that we have a pop-goes-the-weasel style seal breaker. They would do to us what they did to Uzushiogakure.”  
  
Konoha was mighty. But it was not so mighty that it could survive against the entire rest of the continent united in their need to see it destroyed.  
  
Sarutobi-sensei reached that same conclusion, from how his shoulder sagged. He looked at the scroll in his hand, and arched his brow at Jiraiya. “Then why develop the unseal jutsu at all?”  
  
“The Five Elements Seal is an odd-numbered seal, which Konoha doesn’t have a lot of -- and none which can seal a bijuu.” Jiraiya made a face. “It has the functions of five different seals all at once, and the user can decide which one to use when they’re casting the jutsu. So it’s versatile and odd-numbered. While we were developing the seal, I happened to stumble on how we could use it as a seal breaker.”  
  
“But it’s not done?” Sarutobi looked doubtful.  
  
“No, it’s not. Orochimaru and I still have some work to do so that it can function without a second seal to piggyback off of.”  
  
The Hokage nodded, and looked down at the scroll. “Having this leave the village is a big risk.”  
  
“A risk Orochimaru knows, and he’s asked for it anyway.” Jiraiya held his hand out for the scroll. “Do you trust us, or not?”  
  
For an almost insulting length of time, Sarutobi-sensei held onto the scroll before he handed it over.  
  
Then Jiraiya was off.  
  
\--  
  
Legendary Sannin Orochimaru  
  
Orochimaru tapped his fingers on the table as he pondered what he’d heard. “That does sound like something I would want to possess… for multiple reasons,” he told his nephew with a neutral tone of voice. “But I’m afraid it’s just not enough to make me go away.”  
  
Noburu made an annoyed sound and dropped his head to the table. “Damnit.”  
  
“Particularly not when I want to talk to you about the implications your kekkei genkai have politically. And practically, of course.” Orochimaru put the smile back into his voice along with onto his face. He noted how confused Akami and Jinin grew, and how Noburu froze up visibly. “I’m sure you’re an excellent ninja, but you should think I’d know what to look for when my student is a Hyuga.”  
  
“I didn’t think you saw me… you know I’m actually not that great at being a ninja.” Noburu sighed and rested his head on his hands. “So… what? Am I going to be cage-bird sealed?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Hold on,” Jinin cut in, “I think an explanation is in order….”  
  
“Are you going to force me to come to Konoha -- because I will fight every day to escape as long as Danzo Shimura is alive.” Noburu held his hand up to point, and emphasize his statement, while he ignored Jinin.  
  
“Noburu, what’s he talking about?” Akami asked, clearly confused.  
  
“No. I’ll ask you to do a blood test against Hizashi to see how far away our branch has drifted. It has to be pretty far for me not to have inherited it.” Orochimaru wondered if anyone kept track of such things in Moon Country -- they hadn’t had ninja in hundreds of years. He too ignored the input of the others who tried to insert themselves into the conversation. “May I ask -- is my reputation really that bad?”  
  
“It’s… not your reputation.” Noburu drummed his fingers on the table before his back started to spasm. There was a faint gold glow which emanated from between the slats of his glasses for a moment. “F-fine, I’ll tell him -- just _back off_.” The boy lifted his head and took his glasses off. “Man, that turtle can be so pushy when he wants to be.” Under the glasses, the boy’s eyes were much like Orochimaru’s, only brown. “It is not your reputation. It is… your potential.”  
  
Orochimaru arched his brow.  
  
“I’ve seen a possible future, and in it you are someone who has… undergone rampancy.” The boy formed a handseal and made a clone of himself, which then transformed into a sketchpad which he began to draw helpful visual aids on. “Rampancy is a brain disorder that… I used to know the name of, but I’ve forgotten. Basically, you’re put under so much stress for such a long time that your brain begins to think itself to death.” He tapped a drawing of a smiling brain, and then a drawing of a frazzled brain, and then a clearly evil brain. “This type of insanity is a hiding place for the spirit. The victim lashes out at their former loved ones, it latches onto one or two of its old ideals and pursues them until they forget why they wanted it.” His next visual aid was of a shattered mirror. “Eventually, the brain puts itself back together. But it takes so long that most people die long before they reach that point. For you, the recovery timetable is around thirty to fifty years.”  
  
While he’d heard it explained, it struck a chord with Orochimaru. Particularly the parts about intense stress for prolonged periods of time, and the brain thinking itself to death. He could already see the signs of that in his life, it didn’t take a legendary Sannin to figure out what would happen if things didn’t change. And that timetable, at best thirty years and at worst fifty? It terrified him. Both the idea of being not really himself for such a long time, and what kind of damage he could do over such a long period.  
  
It was so distracting that he almost missed that his nephew had just used the _shadow clone_ jutsu. A jounin-level technique. Perhaps his nephew was too hard on himself.  
  
“And the things you do during your rampancy… aren’t easily forgotten.” Noburu shrugged. “Which is why I offered that fancy rock to get you out of my hair. I can’t stop you, so keeping you far away if you go rampant sometime around nowish was the best I could do.”  
  
“How could I prove to you that I’m not rampant right now?” Orochimaru asked, his mind abuzz with the new knowledge -- which probably wasn’t all that wise, considering.  
  
“See, that’s another thing. I can’t trust you enough right now to tell you, because if you don’t already know it then I’d just feed more dangerous knowledge to an unstable mind.”  
  
Jinin cut in again, frustrated. “Then why did you tell him about the stone?!”  
  
“The stone takes just as much work to get to a usable state, and it’s more likely to kill him in the process.” He glanced at Jinin then refocused on Orochimaru. “No offense.”  
  
Well that was an interesting bit of information to note in regards to the stone. Just file that away in the ominous pile. “None taken,” Orochimaru said with a smile.  
  
“On the plus side, the fact that you are negotiating like this is a good sign.” Noburu rolled his eyes. “I mean, when you went to Tsunade for healing you actually needed you bragged to her about how you killed Sarutobi and -- “ Noburu’s eyes flashed gold for a moment before he clapped his hand over his mouth.  
  
Orochimaru’s ears rang as he contemplated what he’d just heard. His eyes widened visibly. When he went ‘rampant’ as Noburu predicted, he killed Sarutobi-sensei. He bragged about it. He bragged about it, to _his teammate_.  
  
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Noburu said as if he had something stuck in his throat. Croaky. “I should not have said that.”  
  
“Nope,” Akami agreed with a headshake.  
  
“It very much was ill-advised,” Jinin said and nodded in agreement.  
  
Orochimaru sat there, in shock at trying to think of a situation where he’d kill Sarutobi-sensei and remembered how he’d felt before the bijuu transfer. Those feelings and his actions took on a different light when he saw where they ended up.  
  
He snapped back to reality and found that all eyes were on him. He cleared his throat and focused on Noburu. “How… do I avoid this?”  
  
His nephew shrugged and scratched the side of his head. “Um. When’s the last time you used your vacation days?”  
  
Oh yeah. Those. Which he remembered the Yamanakas using recently. Huh. Had… he ever used a vacation day during his entire career? He honestly couldn’t remember.  
  
“Well that answers that,” Noburu commented after Orochimaru’s silence dragged on. “We don’t have any casinos yet, so I can’t recommend vacationing here -- maybe Moon Country?”  
  
“We aren’t building a casino in the village,” Jinin said with his face in his hands.  
  
“I’m going to build a casino myself now, just to spite you.” Noburu’s reply was delivered without missing a beat. It did however earn him a knuckle on the noggin from his mother. “Ow! Hey, spite’s like half my personality! Ow!”  
  
Orochimaru decided that, whatever he’d been prepared for with meeting his family, he had been wrong. He hadn’t been prepared at all. It had been a mixed bag of interesting facts, implications, and confidence rattling stuff. Sort of like when he’d first met his students. At least the voice in his head wasn’t screaming anymore.  
  
...And there it was.  
  
\---  
  
The power of visual aids when explaining complex ideas cannot go understated.  
  
Also building casinos out of spite sounds like a cool thing to do but then you get the mob beating you to death and taking over the place. Ultimately it's not worth the effort or the property taxes.


	25. Trial by Gentle Fist

**Ch 25: Trial by Gentle Fist**  
  
\---  
  
Mercenary Nin Kanzaki  
  
Sayaka sat on the roof of one of the titanic wheelhouses the caravan brought with it, while she felt her new personal summon explore her coat’s many pockets and sheer bulk. The small chameleon was about the size of a cat, and her scales changed color rapidly with how she felt, the temperature, the environment and other factors. Sayaka found that it was like looking at a walking kaleidoscope. Beautiful, but a strain on the eyes.  
  
“Kimiko,” Sayaka asked the little chameleon. “Have you found everything you hoped for?”  
  
Kimiko’s head popped out of her pocket, and turned one spherical eye on Sayaka. “Not yet,” Kimiko answered nearly in a whisper. “I can smell salt acid, but can’t find your containers for it.”  
  
“You can’t have salt acid where it can spill on your skin,” Sayaka told her summon with a small smile. “They’re sealed in scrolls.”  
  
“Then I must find these scrolls, so I know where they are.” Kimiko’s head returned to Sayaka’s pocket for a minute before she began to crawl out. “They’re not here.” And she started toward another pocket. “I will find them.”  
  
“Why do you need to know where everything is hidden?” Sayaka glanced at the caravaneers down below -- and saw more than one face turn away when they were caught staring.  
  
“I have to know where things are. I have to.” Kimiko offered no further explanation and pulled herself into another pocket to look. Moments later, the pocket shifted. “Wires. No scrolls.”  
  
“Keep looking.” Sayaka patted the pocket encouragingly. “You’ll find them if you keep it up.”  
  
“Thank you. I will find them, I have to.”  
  
The scroll of the Chameleon Summoners was bound to Sayaka’s back by a thin rope. Shiromari explained that it was tradition that the summoner who had the boss’ approval carry the scroll with them to induct new summoners.  
  
And apparently, that was Sayaka now. Shiromari returned to the home of the chameleons, Shoshoku Island. Sayaka had never heard of such a place, but it didn’t really matter. She didn’t need to go there anytime soon. Aside from some chemical burns, everyone from the caravan was alright -- they’d just had their pride ruined by Sayaka’s rescue. The caravan owner had chewed out the other protectors for their failure, who in turn fired back that the caravaneers had given the order to spend the night in the castle to begin with.  
  
Sayaka, who had done her job, was exempt from the blame game. But that didn’t mean, as a former Kiri ninja, that she didn’t have people dislike her for being so. Civilians didn’t have their ears trained as keenly as ninja, they didn’t realize she could overhear them. What she heard didn’t bear repeating, but it had made her realize she ought not to be on her own with them.  
  
Hence, Kimiko.  
  
Kimiko would watch Sayaka’s back, and vice versa. And as long as they avoided any swamp ninja clans while they passed through their country, all would be good. Near as she could tell Swamp Country wasn’t actually a country with definite borders so much as it was a region made by other countries determining where their borders were relative to the swamp ninja clans.  
  
Sayaka hadn’t seen any signs of ninja in the swamps -- but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. It could just as easily have been that they were better at hiding than she was at spotting. Kimiko’s advanced eyes would help with that.  
  
Assuming Kimoko ever found the scrolls she was looking for.  
  
With Neck and Valley Country behind them, they would pass through Swamp and arrive at Honey. There, she could hopefully find a boat bound for Wave.  
  
Wave wouldn’t be the end of a nightmare. But it would hopefully be the start of a less vicious one.  
  
\--  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke  
  
Kousuke sat and drank tea while all around him Hoshigaki and Hozuki clan members discussed ideas for how to expand the village’s construction effort without more shipwrecks to use for materials. Across from him was Noburu, slumped on the meeting table with his head down.  
  
The meeting with his uncle hadn’t gone well, it seemed.  
  
Kousuke set his teacup down, the slight noise from the up-till-then silent monk was enough to quiet the thirty-plus squabbling shinobi. Kousuke had that sort of effect on them. He cleared his throat and spoke. “Whale falls dot the seafloor,” he told them. “We can use their bones to act as a stop-gap. The Kaguya might appreciate their addition.”  
  
More than one voice murmured in agreement.  
  
“But it looks like we will need to involve the rest of the village shinobi now -- between all of us, there aren’t enough people with earth release to sculpt the amount of stone needed to finish construction.” He nodded to the Hozuki and Hoshigaki clan heads. “This will not diminish the compounds you have been allowed to construct -- nor will it cause me to forget who helped us build the village from nothing to where it is now. And while I remember, I will make sure your village leadership does too.”  
  
“We could sink some of the ships at anchor,” Noburu suddenly added. “Or we could go after the wrecks near the kraken’s lair.”  
  
“Wait,” someone from the crowd spoke up. “We’re finally addressing that? The ship-breaking monster offshore? I thought we were leaving it as one of those ‘unspoken’ things?”  
  
“Giller,” another person in the crowd answered. “Shut. Up.”  
  
“Look you can’t keep calling me ‘giller’ just cause I have -- ow!” The first to speak up had been punched in the shoulder.  
  
“The kraken’s trophy garden would make for good material. But it’s also a reef in its own right now.” Kousuke spoke up, and completely ignored the diversion which had sprung up. “You can create new reefs, and that’s fine. But preserving the natural ones is also critical. We are not so desperate that we must stoop that low. Leave the kraken where it lies, we will dispose of it when you’re older.”  
  
“Everyone saw how he didn’t rule out sinking the ships, right? I’m not the only one who picked up on that?”  
  
“I got it,” Noburu said with a raised hand.  
  
“Okay, good.”  
  
“It is not likely to become necessary,” Kousuke sighed and took up his tea again. After he’d sipped he looked around at the shinobi with narrowed eyes. “Worst case scenario -- we dig into the cliffs around the village. Hollow out caverns which we connect via coral tubes. That was the plan for keeping livestock down there -- if you can train enough genin with the earth-moving jutsu, they’ll be able to help get started.”  
  
“There are too many ifs for this to be a solid plan,” Noburu muttered. “Ninja get funny when ifs are involved.”  
  
There were a few mutters of agreement from the crowd.  
  
“Oh _that_ y’all agree on, but when I put forward the idea that maybe _age restricting shinobi ranks_ ought to be a thing, you get uppity.”  
  
Some murmurs of displeasure replaced their prior agreement.  
  
After the meeting let out, it was just the two jinchuuriki across the table from one another. Kousuke finished his tea and let Noburu mope. “Have you had a chance to speak to Kushina?” He asked, when he set his cup down.  
  
“Yeah, me and Mito talked to her. She punched me a lot, but it’s whatever. My regeneration’s getting to the point where I could play it off like she wasn’t hurting me.” Noburu shrugged without looking up. “How’s training Raiga-sensei?”  
  
Kousuke smiled, genuinely pleased. “Well. He’s eager to learn, and already he’s starting to think outside the narrow box Kirigakure wanted him in. In a year’s time, he might be ready to lead the village on his own.”  
  
“He stood up to Orochimaru’s friendly conversation tier killing intent, that’s pretty good. Fuguki almost folded like paper under that.”  
  
“I daresay seeing the business end of Buddha’s Palm left him a bit shaken.” Kousuke shrugged, his staff which leaned on him jangled from the motion. “Hopefully he recovers.” There was quiet for a moment while Kousuke regarded his fellow jinchuuriki and his smile slowly slipped from his face. “You know he’s out there, right?”  
  
“Yeah, I see him.” Noburu nodded into the table.  
  
“He’s owed an explanation, don’t you think?”  
  
“Mmmm, not from me he’s not.” Noburu scratched his hair -- just barely past the fuzz stage of grown back. “I didn’t put that seal on his head. I didn’t put these eyes in mine.”  
  
“No, but Orochimaru clearly has no explanation either or he wouldn’t be out there.” Kousuke rose from his seated position and walked around the edge of the table. “Come on, let’s go talk to him.”  
  
Noburu made typical teenage objections -- but when Kousuke began to nudge him into motion with his staff, the genin obediently got up and walked with him.  
  
\--  
  
Genin Hyuga  
  
The rebel leader and the jinchuuriki exited the tent, which prompted Hizashi to rise from his seiza position. With the information Shibi had revealed to him -- he looked at the boy with a more critical eye. He was visibly fatter than most children in their age group -- a privileged upbringing, no doubt. His skin was of mixed tone -- patches were darker or lighter than the one next to them, clearly he’d been so precious that such an unsightly disfigurement was tolerated. And those wretched glasses -- made from solid coral. Coral was expensive, so clearly he had to be wealthy to afford them.  
  
Already his shinobi training told him that these assumptions weren’t correct, but he didn’t care. In front of him was a boy with the Byakugan who had escaped the leash placed on Hizashi. The injustice of it made his blood boil. Orochimaru-sensei had given them orders to test the battle skills of Otogakure’s genin -- and Hizashi wouldn’t let the opportunity pass by.  
  
“I am Hizashi Hyuga, of Konoha.” The boy declared, his face steeled as he adjusted his headband. The other boy had no forehead protector, and Hizashi wanted to drive home the loss of that source of pride. “And I challenge you to a sparring match.”  
  
The boy arched a brow. He glanced at Kousuke and then focused again on Hizashi. “Let’s save each other a lot of trouble -- you’re a better fighter than I am. I mean, I’ve been busy swimming around building a village for close to a month, kinda hard to keep up training with that in the way.”  
  
“Perhaps,” Hizashi allowed, and dropped into a combat stance. “But we won’t know until we clash.”  
  
“Fine.” The boy took his glasses off and handed them to Kousuke. The sight of his eyes filled Hizashi with a sudden burst of doubt -- they weren’t the pale discs which Hyuga possessed, but vertical slit eyes like Orochimaru-sensei’s but of a different color. “I would make an inappropriate joke, but we’re both too young and you’re much too stiff for humor.” As Hizashi watched, the blood vessels around the boy’s eyes bulged out and his eyes changed.  
  
Byakugan.  
  
Hizashi activated his byakugan and met the boy’s gaze with his own. Somehow he expected the boy to slide into a Gentle Fist stance, but he didn’t. The taijutsu stance his opponent used was… amateur. Academy-grade. Almost insulting, really.  
  
“I’m Noburu Jiang of Otogakure,” he said before they clashed. “And I accept your challenge.”  
  
From the moment they charged, it was clear that Noburu was correct -- Hizashi was the better fighter. Noburu was put onto the defensive right away -- with no grace in his motions at all. How much of that was his added weight, and how much was simply lack of training, Hizashi didn’t know or care. Every time he could deal a blow to Noburu’s joints and hear a satisfying pop, it made him feel better.  
  
But after a moment, the paralyzed limb would be back in working order. It didn’t matter where it was -- fingers, ankle, knee, jaw -- they all popped back into place seemingly of their own accord seconds after Hizashi struck them. It was downright annoying.  
  
However something became clear as Hizashi continued to wail on Noburu -- the lack of injuries which persisted meant he could keep fighting. His stamina was much higher than Hizashi had anticipated, and while exhaustion set in for Hizashi -- Noburu remained consistent.  
  
Right when Hizashi thought Noburu would go on the offensive, he stopped and crossed his arms. “Are we done here?” The boy glared with his Byakugan at Hizashi. “Are you done with whatever this was?”  
  
“How… how are you fixing yourself?” Hizashi refused to back down from his taijutsu stance, despite how his arms burned.  
  
Noburu tapped the side of his head. “Byakugan. I’m looking at my injuries as you make them and fixing what you break. I’m a medical-nin, it’s what I do.”  
  
That took the wind out of his sails right away. He sagged, and let his arms drop. “Oh. So there was never a way for me to win?”  
  
“Well no, you could have won easily by sealing my chakra points. But… I get the feeling you don’t know how to do that?” Noburu shrugged. “I don’t know either. I’m currently looking at like, chakra scalpels to replace that part of the Gentle Fist. Or maybe that puppetry jutsu from Suna, which gives you telekinesis effectively? Point is, there’s options. What chakra nature are you? I have some ideas for combining just basic Gentle Fist moves with lightning release, but I’m a water release person so I can’t test them myself.”  
  
That made Hizashi -- and Kousuke -- double take at the sudden shift. “W...why are you even telling me that?” Hizashi’s Byakugan deactivated as his chakra depleted too low to maintain it. “I was just attacking you minutes ago.”  
  
“And what an impression you made.” Noburu, with his Byakugan still active, gestured to the jaw Hizashi had dislocated, the knee, the elbow, the fingers, all of which were in perfect working order. “Without lingering pain it becomes harder to hold a grudge against you. I thought you might know Gentle Fist enough to hurt me by way of Hiashi sneaking you tips and tricks. But no.” He shrugged again. “So, chakra nature?”  
  
Hizashi, utterly baffled by how his attempt at revenge by proxy had turned into… whatever sort of situation he found himself, found himself at a loss. “Um… wind release, actually.”  
  
“Oooh, okay.” Noburu bounced on his feet and hopped over to Hizashi’s side where he began to form green medical chakra in his hand. This was then applied to Hizashi’s arms without prompting. “Alright so what I imagine you could do with that is a variation of the vacuum palm where you use wind release chakra for overwhelming air pressure attacks and some airbending mobility boosts.”  
  
Hizashi decided, after Noburu kept talking, that he had gone into the situation with not nearly enough recon. It wasn’t until he returned to the team’s cabin that he stopped to question how Noburu had known about Hiashi, or the vacuum palm.  
  
\--  
  
Genin Fujimoto  
  
The bubblehead jutsu took some getting used to, but Haruki managed it. He, along with several dozen genin, swam down into the sound -- Kousuke had left a trail of glowing bubbles for them to follow. The shinobi swam like a school of fish -- genin mostly focused on going deeper into the cold water while the chunin made sure everyone kept up, and the jounin watched for threats.  
  
Haruki saw the village then, clearly, for the first time. A massive slab of stone jutted from the cliff-sheer walls of the sound upon which a number of rocky structures stood. Tall spires at the center which became shorter as they moved toward the edges of the slab. Below that was a stone bubble as big as Kirigakure, at the deepest part of the sound. The rocky exterior of the village was covered in different types of coral, with fish already inhabiting it.  
  
It looked like an enormous sunken castle as they approached, but Haruki saw that the distance made it seem smaller than it really was. The spires were each taller than Haruki had ever seen buildings reach, and they were laid out on a grid with space between them and tunnels which connected them.  
  
The monk which had bid them come down floated entirely in a bubble, as fist-sized bubbles filled with brilliant light continuously formed around him and spread on the sound’s currents. “Alright -- everyone remember the bubble-blowing jutsu your senseis taught you?” Kousuke shouted, and waited until he saw confirmation from the assembled shinobi to continue. “I’m going to give you special syrup-water to make the bubbles from, and you’re going to fill all the windowspace in the village with bubbles. You might hear some sounds like rock being scraped -- that’s the excavation team at work on the tunnels.” The monk’s bubble suddenly grew an attached secondary bubble filled with pale green syrup. After a moment, the second bubble burst into dozens of smaller ones, each filled with the syrup. “Come and collect more once you run out, I’ll keep this up all day.”  
  
Haruki was one of the first to swim up and take a syrup bubble and got to work. The way the bubble-blowing jutsu worked was that -- absent a blowing pipe -- a mouthful of water was used to make the new bubble. The syrup bubble and the bubblehead jutsu worked together to give Haruki a mouthful of the syrup to blow into mostly clear window-bubbles in the sides of the towering spires. The stuff tasted like minty toothpaste.  
  
There, in the sound, Haruki wasn’t an eyes caste elite. He wasn’t part of a prestigious clan, his kekkei genkai mattered little. He was just one of many young people with the ability to easily use water release jutsu, he was just one of many young people doing their part to help the village move forward.  
  
The village didn’t look anywhere near ‘done’. But from the looks of things… it was almost ready for people to move in. To leave their tents, and come down to live under the water. To have a home again.  
  
Every bubble he blew was one step closer to having a home, and Haruki worked until Raiga-sensei had to physically stop him in pursuit of that.  
  
\---  
  
Damnit Haruki, stop being a workaholic! You’re making the other genin look bad!


	26. Deep Down

**Ch 26: Deep Down**  
  
\---  
  
Legendary Sannin Tsunade  
  
Tsunade woke with a wicked hangover as her apprentice shook her by the shoulder. The legendary medical ninja rose from her cot with a sour expression aimed at the girl. “Shizune,” Tsunade growled and formed her fingers into a flick gesture ready to strike. “Give me a good reason not to start you on evasion practice here and now.”  
  
Tsunade’s long blonde hair was a mess, some stuck to her face from dried drool, while the girl was much more put together. Shizune, Tsunade’s nine year old apprentice, recoiled in fear of her teacher for a moment before she rapidly bowed down. “Lady Tsunade -- a message from Lord Orochimaru has arrived!”  
  
 _Oh great,_ Tsunade thought and rolled her eyes. _That prick’s finally found me._ “Well, what did the message say?” Tsunade peeled the hair off her face and threw her blankets off. Ugh, she’d gone to sleep in her heels. Disgusting.  
  
“I… don’t know. The message is sealed.” Shizune bowed again and remained in it. “I don’t know the unsealing jutsu.”  
  
Tsunade sighed and rubbed her forehead as her headache grew worse. “Bring it here, then….”  
  
A rattlesnake slithered its way toward her, a scroll in its coils. As soon as Tsunade picked it up, she recognized the seal placed on the scroll -- a secret seal which only the Sannin and Sarutobi-sensei could break. Orochimaru had really wanted whatever was in the scroll to be for her eyes only. Annoyed, and hungover, Tsunade unsealed the scroll and opened it. She fully expected it to be a lecture about her sabbatical.  
  
‘Please come to Wave Country, I need your help.’  
  
That was all. Literally one sentence. Orochimaru was practically addicted to complexity, he couldn’t do simple if he tried. Something was either seriously wrong, or someone was impersonating Orochimaru. Still, the only people who could use the three-prong seal were people she knew -- so she quickly summoned two messenger slugs of her own.  
  
“Please go to Jiraiya and Sarutobi-sensei and ask what this is about,” she told the Katsuyu clones and showed them the scroll’s contents.  
  
“Of course, Princess Tsunade,” the two white and blue-green striped slugs replied, bowed, and vanished.  
  
After they were gone, Tsunade got herself ready to face the day. With her hangover, it was difficult work but she had to set an example to Shizune -- sleeping with heels on had consequences.  
  
The afternoon had come, and Tsunade had gone to the casinos, when her Katsuyu messengers returned. One with a reply from the Hokage: “Make haste to Wave Country, before calamity unfolds.”  
  
And the second came with Jiraiya.  
  
It’d been a couple years since the two had seen each other, so Tsunade promptly ignored him until she lost her hand a poker. Then she bothered to greet him. “What’s all this about Wave Country?” She demanded of her former teammate, hands on her hips. “That miserable island’s been rather popular recently.”  
  
Jiraiya glanced at Shizune, who hid behind Tsunade, and led them to the casino’s roof where they could talk. “Water Country lost its civil war, and is no more,” he started off, his tone serious. “A lot of the ninja and civilians from Kirigakure have settled in Wave. Including their jinchuuriki.”  
  
“And Sarutobi-sensei thinks they’ll attack Fire Country?” Tsunade said back, and used a mask of affront to hide how shaken she was to hear that one of the Elemental Nations was gone, along with its village. She hadn’t even heard anything about a civil war in Water Country. “I’m not going to war for Konoha again.”  
  
Jiraiya looked at her with a calculating expression. “One of the jinchuuriki is Orochimaru’s nephew -- it turns out he had family in another nation.”  
  
Tsunade was not prepared for that, and it caused her to mentally stall out for a solid three seconds while she parsed what she had heard. She scowled at the toad Sannin and clenched her fist so hard the knuckles popped. “That’s not funny, Jiraiya.”  
  
“I’m not joking.” Her teammate’s voice was soft, like he couldn’t believe himself either. He steel in his eyes when he looked at her. “I was there when Orochimaru did the blood test to confirm it. He told me what it meant, and we both know he wouldn’t joke about that.”  
  
She had to take a moment processing that. Out of the three of them, she’d been the only one with surviving family -- her grandmother. But suddenly Orochimaru had a nephew? She glanced down at Shizune, and briefly wondered if the boy was around the same age -- maybe they could give the girl a friend?  
  
“Well, why’s he asking me to come with you to Wave, then?” Tsunade flicked her hand dismissively. “He’s better at sealing than I am, and a better medic than you. He should have this handled.”  
  
Jiraiya’s eyes narrowed at her, and it was his turn to clench his hands tight. “Orochimaru told sensei he thinks the kid’s seal is FUBAR, and he asked me to bring an experimental half-finished seal with me. So I can think of two possible reasons he wants you there.” The toad Sannin crossed his arms. “Either he wants you there because the bijuu is going to need to be removed and re-sealed….” He extended one finger to indicate the count, then a second as he kept speaking. “Or he wants you there to help when he has to put down the only family he has left because the seal is so broken that we _cannot_ fix it.”  
  
Her blood ran cold. She drifted back through time to when Orochimaru had been the one to tell her about her little brother. She remembered looking up when Dan was dying, to see Orochimaru keeping an eye out for the enemy. She recalled how it had felt to have him, Jiraiya, and Sarutobi-sensei there in the days after those deaths. As bad as she was, she knew she’d be worse if they had left her alone to grieve.  
  
“...I’ll pack my things, and be ready to go in an hour,” Tsunade said with her arms limp at her sides.  
  
“Do that, please.”  
  
\--  
  
Jounin Kurosuki  
  
Raiga watched as the pumps salvaged from wrecked ships started to chug and churn and spit out seawater from the interior of the village. It would take days to fully drain the village -- and then they’d have to start moving people in and getting the trappings of society built. Konoha had provided a lot of worked goods which would be helpful for that -- copper, glass, grains, and a line of credit to purchase additional materials.  
  
There was so much work to do, he couldn’t stand around and watch the pumps spit seawater back into the sound. He left, and went into the tent city where there was a noticeable level of excitement that dampened when he appeared. People grew quieter around him, they hid their children as he passed, and some outright went back into their tents. On top of the work needed to get Otogakure as location up to the standard of living Kirigakure had, there was clearly work which needed to be done to make them one people.  
  
Or perhaps that was because Junko had decided to run circles around him as he walked into the tent city. Once he was aware of his student’s presence, he placed a hand onto her head to stop her running. “Junko, what’s up?” He tried to grin, but he just couldn’t match the manic enthusiasm Junko had.  
  
“I’m so excited that we’re going to have a village again soon!” She bounced in place, even though Raiga tried to keep her on the ground. “Mama’s already thinking of which tower we want to live in, and I wondered if you had a tower of your own already? Maybe we could be neighbors?”  
  
Raiga arched his brow and looked around. People took notice of Junko’s words. Perhaps that could present an opportunity. “Probably not. The Kaguya clan would be granted a whole tower because of their numbers. But me? I’d probably just get an apartment on a floor -- maybe one with a view of the reefs outside.” He let her go and continued to walk. “Maybe Noburu’s family apartment and mine could be close to the Kaguya tower, but we won’t have a tower all to ourselves..”  
  
People were listening in, eager for any scrap of information about their new home. That gave Raiga an idea as he tried to reign in Junko’s enthusiasm. In the end, as was the case with all Kaguya, she could only be worn down with violence.  
  
Later that evening, Raiga and his genin returned to the tent city with a prize to feast on -- a full grown maneater boar, a hog that could feed the whole tent city on his own. While Noburu, Raiga, and Junko went to work slaughtering the carcass Haruki was given the task of getting the cooks all prepared to go to work with such a hog.  
  
“I can’t believe they have pigs that big here,” the Fujimoto survivor muttered as he watched the eleven-meter long carcass butchered by his team. “What do they even eat?”  
  
“Do you think, Princess,” Noburu muttered as he pulled armfuls of viscera from the chest cavity, “that they call them ‘maneater boars’ for funsies?” He stuck his arm in again and felt around. “Found the gallbladder!”  
  
Chefs with knives carefully moved in around Noburu to remove the gallbladder while the jinchuuriki’s shadow clones hauled organs away for cleaning.  
  
Raiga wiped his forehead with a cloth while he carefully cut through to the joints on one of the hog’s legs. Bit by bit, the hog was portioned down and carried away for cleaning. He glanced over at Junko, who was covered in blood and handing bowls of the stuff to other Kaguya clan members. Per her, they were going to make puddings from the blood -- Raiga didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.  
  
“Spread the word,” he shouted as people watched them butcher the pig from afar. “There is to be a feast tonight! We celebrate this day, when our home comes closer to being finished! All who have questions about the village will be answered!”  
  
“Yay!” The blood-covered Junko cheered, as she bounced and clapped her sanguine hands. “Question and answers over food!”  
  
“Gah!” Haruki hoped away from Junko as blood spattered where he’d been. “Junko, watch it! You’ll get blood everywhere -- and I don’t want it staining my silks!”  
  
Junko paused, then grinned maniacally wide. “Oh?” She twitched her fingers in his direction. “You don’t want blood all over you?” She took a step closer.  
  
Haruki waved a finger at her warningly, and took a step away. “No….”  
  
“You don’t want to have liquid life all over you?” She took another step closer.  
  
“No no no….” Haruki continued to back away, then turned and ran when Junko charged him. “Stay away, devil woman!”  
  
Junko chased after Haruki with her blood-covered hands stretched out and making grabby gestures. “A bit of red will make you look so nice!”  
  
“Someone call a priest and exorcise this demon!”  
  
Raiga sighed, and stabbed Kiba into the ground. “You two knock it off,” he shouted after he cupped his hands around his mouth. “We have to get this done before….” He paused as he watched five Noburu shadow clones carry a section of the rib cage away to the cleaning station. “Oh. I guess… Noburu can help more than I thought.” He cupped his hands around his mouth again. “Nevermind! Resume your chase!”  
  
Haruki squawked as he quickly started to run from Junko once more, she didn’t need to be told twice to chase after something.  
  
Noburu and Raiga continued the work on butchering the pig while chefs cleaned and cooked it up for the feast. After a quick washup on their parts, they were ready to join the feast. Raiga sat with Fuguki and Jinin, while his students were seated together. Haruki’s eye kept twitching as he had been forced to change shirts while the blood on the old one was soaked out, and Junko’s grin was brighter than dawn. Noburu was seated close to the end of their table, where his mother could be at the far end of hers and sit next to each other -- however hse seemed ill at ease with who sat to Akami’s flank, Orochimaru.  
  
The feast had no set ceremony -- it was a massive meal shared by the settlement to celebrate progress, there was no need for fancy speeches or grand gestures in Kirigakure culture. But if they wanted to move on, they needed to have a talk. Raiga took a weight and struck the table to gain the feast-goer’s attention, and stood.  
  
He didn’t know what he would say when he’d done that, but he decided that the best way to earn people’s trust was to be honest with them. “Today we celebrate moving one step closer to living out of Kirigakure’s shadow.” He let that hang for a second while he thought of what he’d say next. “The nightmare is not over. There is still work to do. And we will have to keep watch to make sure that insatiable bloodlust and love of cruelty never manifest in our people to cause a repeat of history. When the food is eaten, the jounin, the heads of the Hoshigaki and Hozuki clans, the architects of the village, and I will take questions. We’ll answer any questions you may have about the village -- and what we plan to do with it. But tonight, right now, we have a home days away from us being able to live in it, and we have honored guests to celebrate.” He gestured to Orochimaru and his genin. “Let this feast be the beginning of good things! Bone app the teeth!”  
  
Noburu was giggling like a madman while Raiga sat back down utterly redfaced. He couldn’t believe he’d used the obviously fake meal blessing, but he felt he had to end on something. No one else seemed to mind, however.  
  
\--  
  
Mother Jiang  
  
Her son had made a clone which transformed into a model of the village as it was now -- which allowed the non-ninja the chance to look at the village clearly for the first time. She was amazed at how, from above, the village looked somewhat like a snowflake -- yet the towers and the massive dome beneath the village captured most people’s attention.  
  
With the feast done, she watched as the young man who was somehow a jounin explained the village to everyone assembled. “...We currently have seven of a planned twenty-five towers completed,” Raiga explained. “They still need to be wired, to have ventilation set up, and amenities installed… such as doors. But they should provide us with more than enough room while new towers are built.” He tapped three out of the seven which changed color. “Three of the towers, not necessarily these three, are reserved for the great clans which have helped us build the village and will continue to help now that we’re past the hardest part. Any questions?”  
  
Her brother-in-law next to her raised his hand with a smile. Akami did as well, though she was less confident. To her suprise, Raiga pointed her out to speak first. “Um… what is the large dome?”  
  
Raiga tapped it, and it lit up on the model. “This is the agricultural area. It’s going to be filled with soil and fresh water to act as the village’s main reservoir and grow our food. They’ll be grown on structures like tiered rice paddies, which are carved into the sides of the dome and continue up to the crown.”  
  
Akami nodded, content with the answer, and let Orochimaru be called on next. For such a fearsome reputation, he was subdued in his gestures and tone of voice -- always so soft and seemingly well-meaning. Akami had to work hard to remember that Orochimaru wasn’t Jirou, and that she might color her son’s perception of both of them if she warmed up to their new relative too fast.  
  
“Have you made room for the facilities needed to power your village, and pump water for internal plumbing… and irrigation, since you have your own agriculture,” Orochimaru asked with a curious tone.  
  
Akami glanced at her son and saw him squint from behind his glasses.  
  
Raiga nodded, slow and slightly suspicious. “We have space carved into the cliff behind the village.” He tapped the edge of the model where the sides of the sound were implied to be. “We will have ventilation, power, and the pumping station in artificial caverns. What we’re hoping to do is to have this area,” he indicated the village proper, with its towers, “be the residential area and the more scenic location. The industrial region will be in the caverns, so as not to damage the reefs.”  
  
Another question came up, from a fisherman back in Kiri. “Will we be allowed to fish on the reefs?”  
  
Raiga glanced at Noburu, and nodded at the asker. “The only form of fishing which is prohibited is bottom trawling -- we’re afraid of damaging local reefs and agitating the krakens. Speaking of which -- do **not** provoke the kraken offshore. We have a plan to kill it, so leave it be.”  
  
“Yeah,” Akami muttered, “it better involve leaving enough intact for me to cook.”  
  
Orochimaru looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You intend to cook the kraken?”  
  
She nodded, resolute. If she wanted to wake a sleeping goddess who’s favorite food was kraken, she had to get it right the first time. The village would never allow a second one to move in so close.  
  
Suzume, seated on the other side of Orochimaru, leaned in to comment. “She’s said it’s an opportunity a chef would never pass up.”  
  
A completely true fact that was not at all why Akami wished for the kraken to be taken mostly intact. “Kraken will never be a common dish -- they eat whales to get as big as they do,” Akami explained. “But I want to have that little piece of history for my name, so my son has something he can tell my grandchildren about. ‘Your gramma was a legendary cook, who served kraken as sashimi’.” She puffed her chest out in pride, while she knew her son hid his face. “That’s what he’ll say.”  
  
Orochimaru blinked at her, then tapped his chin in consideration. “Would… kraken make good takoyaki?”  
  
“Probably not,” Suzume answered while Akami shook her head. “They resemble giant cuttlefish, so the texture of the flesh is likely not the same as giant octopus.”  
  
“They likely have a decent amount of fat in them.” Orochimaru continued to tap his chin as he mused. “They stay in the Kaizoku all winter, when even the whales can’t take the cold. It could be that the texture of the flesh would change with how you cook it.”  
  
“Hmm, I hadn’t considered that.”  
  
“You know,” Noburu muttered loud enough for Akami to hear. “I really can’t wait until I can take a break from all this nerd stuff and just beat someone up and get paid for it.”  
  
That was something Akami could identify with. Cooking out of necessity was fun, but she missed being paid for her work. Maybe she could make the village some money by selling recipes for kraken to stupid nobles?  
  
She nixed that idea right away -- knowing the nobility, they’d start hunting krakens commercially, and then they’d all be dead in fifty years.  
  
“Wait…” Noburu muttered as he lifted his head off the table. “I wouldn’t have anything to spend it on until we get merchants to set up shop here. That’s years off! Dangit…”  
  
\---  
  
Cast:  
  
Legendary Sannin Tsunade: One of the three Sannin, the last living descendent of the Senju clan. A veteran of the Second Shinobi World War, she is the foremost expert on medical ninjutsu on the planet. It is unknown if she has completed a medical doctorate, and what her area of specialty is. Tsunade is renowned for her bad luck, her drinking habits, and her cynacism.  
Shizune: Tsunade’s nine-year-old apprentice. Her late fiancee’s niece, Tsunade took Shizune as her apprentice over more qualified candidates purely out of nepotism. Shizune likely will develop into quite a kunoichi in her own right, but she spends most of her time tending to Tsunade after the princess passes out drunk.  
  
Noburu is really considering changing his casino idea into inventing the first shopping mall in the Naruto setting. He just can’t make up his mind!


	27. Chapter 27

**Ch 27: Despair Not**  
  
\---  
  
Genin Uzumaki  
  
Kushina liked to think she knew how to fight. She liked to think that she was pretty solid as far as kunoichi went. Then she picked a fight with one of Noburu’s teammates and got kicked so hard in the stomach that she went flying twelve meters back and landed in the sound.  
  
While Kushina struggled back to the surface, her opponent casually skipped -- literally skipped -- across the surface of the water and crouched down next to the Konoha genin.  
  
“Maybe Noburu is right,” the strange girl with tattoos around her eyes said with a pout. “You still need practice before you’re a good fight.”  
  
Kushina wanted to snap something, but she instead coughed and tried to stay afloat. How did a girl barely older than her already know how to _water-walk_?  
  
“Here, let me help you up baby-girl!” The cheerful Oto nin reached down and grabbed Kushina under arms. As if she weighed nothing, the girl -- Junko, Kushina remembered her name was -- picked Kushina up and carried her back to shore.  
  
“H-hey! Let me down! I can swim!”  
  
“Not when the water’s negative-one degrees, silly!” Junko giggled and held Kushina over her head. “I thought you’d land one of the ice floes -- but you can’t control how you fall yet. It’s okay, there’s always next time!”  
  
Kushina wiggled valiantly, but she couldn’t escape the other kunoichi’s grip. It was like iron despite Junko being, at best, a couple months older. In short order, she found herself back on shore with a couple dozen blankets foisted on her and a seat by the fire she was mandated to stay at.  
  
“I… I can’t believe I lost that badly,” Kushina muttered from within her coccoon of blankets. “She kicked me _once_ and that was the end of it!”  
  
“Well, yeah!” Junko cartwheeled onto the scene and crouched down next to Kushina. She wrapped her hands around her knees and grinned. “I’m a Kaguya, we’re the top dogs at taijutsu in Oto now. We almost were with Kiri, but the Fujimotos had us beat.” She stuck her tongue out. “But there will only be one Fujimoto left after the rest get killed! And he’s not really interested in taijutsu!”  
  
Kushina twitched as she listened to the odd girl talk. “He’s… your teammate? And you sound happy that his family is going to die?”  
  
Junko nodded. “They can’t let go of the past! They’re so wrapped up in their Kirigakure pride,” she twirled her finger around, to indicate the wrapping, “that they’re letting go of reality. By now the food in Kiri will be running out, and there’s no more boats there.” Junko smiled. “By now they _know_ that they should have come with us, but there’s nothing they can do.”  
  
Kushina felt a chill run through her that wasn’t brought on by her dip in the sound. “And… you’re happy about that?”  
  
“Yeah. It means that we’ve got less people who will make our lives trouble.” Junko stuck her tongue out. “My clan’s honest about who we are, and we can tell the difference between what’s real and what isn’t. Everyone here can too.” She rolled her eyes. “Everyone who stayed in Kiri would just make it more likely we’d end up like a second Kiri. It’s good to get rid of them.”  
  
Kushina couldn’t say she disagreed, but to see someone reflect her views with such cheer made her think she should. “S-so…, “ she started, to turn the conversation in another direction. “Um. How did you train to be so strong?”  
  
“Oh, a lot of training. My family makes games of it all -- stuff like, ‘withstand the guillotine’, ‘catch the knife’ and other stuff.” She giggled, unaware of how her words made Kushina even more ill-at-ease. “You’ll get that strong too, if you train. Though, now they want us to play new games.” She tilted her head to the side, and made a confused face. “Stuff like ‘drawing’, and other not-very-hitty things. Maybe by the time I’m good at that, you’ll be good at fighting?”  
  
“Sure… yeah,” Kushina nodded. Part of her felt genuinely insulted by Junko for that line, but another felt it was genuine criticism. Junko had kicked her once and won the fight, and Kushina needed to get better at taijutsu so it didn’t happen again. “But then I’ll have to learn how to be a better artist than you, too.”  
  
“Hee! It’s like a race! I’ve got the lead, and you gotta catch up!” Junko gave Kushina two thumbs-up and a grin. “You can still win, if you work hard or get really lucky! I believe you can do it!”  
  
“Um… thank you for believing in me?” She didn’t know what to do with that information -- the girl who was glad her teammate’s insane family was going to die, and had beaten her with almost no effort believed in her. “I hope I won’t… disappoint you?”  
  
Junko’s smile slowly faded, and she looked at Kushina -- deadly serious. “You can only disappoint me by giving up. It is better to try, and fail, than to give up.” She stood, and walked off suddenly.  
  
Kushina was left in a state of utter bewilderment, cozy though she was in a nest of blankets.  
  
\--  
  
Genin Aburame  
  
Shibi stayed with Orochimaru-sensei while the others were allowed to wander the tent city. His sensei wanted to speak to Kousuke, and Shibi had asked to accompany him -- he’d heard stories of the rebellious monk, and wanted to see how true they were.  
  
When they approached the slug-banner tent, Shibi could see that Water Temple monks weren’t the same as their Fire Temple compatriots. Fire Temple monks had their hands and feet exposed, and typically went without hair or head-coverings. But the Water Temple monks in Kousuke’s entourage had almost every patch of skin apart from their heads covered, and even then they wore hats in fig-like shapes. He’d seen those hats worn by locals in the villages -- perhaps they were making an active change to assimilate to Wave’s culture?  
  
Shibi wisely stopped the thoughts in the vein of ‘did Wave even have a culture’ before they took shape. That would be massively rude to give thought to.  
  
Kousuke broke from the tradition of what he expected a powerful monk to look like. The massive hoop earrings were an obvious sign, but the staff in his hand was another. Shakujo were typically reserved for a monastery’s abbott and were used in ceremonies only. But Kousuke’s staff had the telltale scars of life as a weapon. He was not surrounded by an aura of killing intent, as the stories told, and he didn’t have a sneer that caused ninja to flee at the sight of it.  
  
But one thing the stories got right were Kousuke’s eyes. While Orochimaru-sensei talked with the monk, Shibi occasionally caught Kousuke’s gaze. Each and every time, without fail, Kousuke’s eyes unnerved Shibi. It was as if he were an ant that had caught the complete, undivided attention of a human. Whatever was behind Kousuke’s eyes to create such an effect was as high above humans as they were above common insects. However, his hives were relatively still. They had no fear of Kousuke, even though Shibi did.  
  
Shibi didn’t know which of them was in the wrong -- maybe neither of them were.  
  
Maybe Kousuke was only something terrifying to Shibi because Shibi had never been in the position his insects spent every day.  
  
“I think your student is having trouble with maintaining his courage,” Kousuke commented as he removed his conical hat and began to shed his vestments. “That is good -- he will remember this and find other moments of fear trifling in comparison.”  
  
Orochimaru-sensei turned to look at Shibi with an odd expression -- it was like Orochimaru-sensei had something he wanted to express, but didn’t quite know how to make his face make the shape. But that was impossible, Orochimaru-sensei was one of the Sannin and their infiltration expert. The Sannin laid his hand on Shibi’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be afraid. You can stand behind me, or outside the tent if it makes you feel better.”  
  
Shibi thought he’d been hiding his fear relatively well. But no, it had been obvious. “If I do not challenge myself,” he said as he looked up at his sensei with what he hoped was conviction, “I will not get better. I want to try, at least.”  
  
The unfamiliar expression on Orochimaru’s face became a smile. “That’s a good attitude. Alright.” Orochimaru turned back to Kousuke just as the monk sat down with his back to them -- his torso uncovered with no apparent ill effects despite the cold.  
  
A moment later an elaborate tattoo of interlocking diamond-shapes began to appear on Kousuke’s back. It spread out from the base of his neck until it encompassed his entire back. Some diamonds were filled, some half-filled, some empty, and others had a pattern within them.  
  
Orochimaru-sensei approached and looked at the elaborate tattoo. Shibi didn’t know what he was looking _for_ , just that he looked. Orochimaru-sensei formed hand signs and began to tap some of the diamonds with patterns inside them with his fingers. When he touched a pattern designed to look like a spiral, there was a sudden flood of overwhelming chakra.  
  
Shibi’s bugs stilled and hid within their homes, Shibi had to struggle to remain standing, and several of Kousuke’s monks looked ill at ease.  
  
“Oy, oy,” Kousuke muttered with a different accent than he had possessed a moment prior. “The hell you want, yeah? I got more important things to be doin’ than coming out and speakin’ to you.”  
  
“Pardon me,” Orochimaru said, and bowed his head. “Just inspecting the seal. It… appears damaged?”  
  
“Hmph. Well don’t bother me about it, yeah? Young people these days, disturbin’ their elders for every little thing….” The oppressive chakra faded and his normal voice returned. “Saiken and I are equals. He may come and go as he wishes.”  
  
“Well,” Orochimaru said as he stood up and crossed his arms. “The seal being that badly damaged means that most seal breakers wouldn’t actually do anything. However… why is it this damaged in the first place?”  
  
“The barrier between myself and Saiken strained his ability to lend me his power. I removed it.” Kousuke turned and glared directly at Orochimaru. “Isobu and Saiken are the most passive of their kin -- you need not fear rampages unless you do something to provoke them.”  
  
“I’ll be sure to tell the Hokage that.” Orochimaru did not wince from the glare as Shibi knew he would. “Though he might ask that you be sealed somewhat more securely.”  
  
“I am not a ninja, thus not bound by your agreement with Oto. And Hiruzen already knows I’m not afraid of him. Or you.” Kousuke calmly started to dress himself again. “So to put it bluntly: No.”  
  
Using the Hokage’s name so casually made Shibi almost more afraid than when the monk had unleashed that terrible chakra. The idea that someone could be equal to Lord Hokage enough to use his given name so casually… it boggled Shibi’s mind.  
  
“Well.” Orochimaru said, calm despite how shaken Shibi was. He turned and patted the boy on the back. “You did well. Let’s go back and meet up with the others, huh?”  
  
Shibi nodded and followed his sensei when they walked away. It took his hives a long time to feel safe enough to begin moving again. Just as they’d begun to go back to normal, they froze again and returned to their rest state. It took Shibi a moment to see why. A gap in the crowd formed around three people, two adults and a girl younger than Shibi. He recognized them immediately.  
  
A man in the jounin uniform of Konoha with spikey white hair in a long ponytail, with a large scroll tied to his back and long red lines tattooed beneath his eyes. A woman with long blonde hair, a purple diamond tattooed on her forehead, and dressed as a civilian with a stunning jeweled necklace.  
  
Lord Jiraiya and Princess Tsunade, the other Sannin. Shibi hastily bowed to them, but the Sannin had eyes only for each other.  
  
Orochimaru’s face was full of relief when Shibi glanced at him. “I didn’t know if you would come,” he said.  
  
Tsunade seemed to initially want to avoid his gaze, but she took a breath and met Orochimaru-sensei’s eyes with determination. “I wouldn’t leave you with only this lummox for support at a time like this,” she jerked her thumb at Jiraiya.  
  
Shibi didn’t understand, was something wrong?  
  
Tsunade glanced down at him, and made him want to hide behind Orochimaru-sensei with her intense stare. “You took an apprentice?”  
  
“I have a genin team now.” Orochimaru-sensei patted Shibi on the shoulder. “This is Shibi Aburame. Shibi, these are my teammates. And… that shy little thing is… Shizune?”  
  
Tsunade glanced down at the girl who actually hid behind her teacher. “Shizune, come on. They’re our allies.” She was shorter than Shibi substantially, with short black hair and a dark kimono on. Quite nondescript.  
  
“You’ve grown since I last saw you.” Orochimaru smiled, which only seemed to frighten the girl more. “Shibi, could you take Shizune to meet with the others? Maybe talk to some of the Otogakure genin?”  
  
“Of course, sensei.” Shibi nodded, emboldened by his teacher’s request. He stepped away from the Sannin and waited for Shizune to follow. She did, although hesitant to leave Tsunade’s side. It took her a while, but Shibi was patient enough to wait.  
  
“You’ve done well keeping everyone calm,” Jiraiya said as he reached out and patted Orochimaru on the shoulder. “But we’re here now. Let’s get a look at it.”  
  
Shibi just barely managed to coax one of his bugs to fly after them as he and Shizune walked in the opposite direction.  
  
\--  
  
Legendary Sannin Tsunade  
  
Two medical ninja sat across from each other in a room adjacent to where Orochimaru and Jiraiya worked.  
  
Tsunade looked over the former medical director for Kirigakure with a narrowed gaze. “Suzume, you look like shit.”  
  
“I feel like shit,” she replied back, exhausted. “War does that to you.”  
  
That was a feeling Tsunade could understand, so she let that topic die off. Suzume had been on the development team of the seal which held the three-tails, and she was also the jinchuuriki’s primary physician and medical tutor. So while the boys talked shop in Orochimaru’s cabin about the seal, she talked to Suzume about the jinchuuriki’s health.  
  
For a brief period in the Second Shinobi World War, Kiri and Konoha had been allied against Suna and Iwa -- and in that time Suzume and Tsunade had a chance to meet and talk as peers. Tsunade found Suzume’s theft of Suna’s chakra threads for use in treating multiple patients at once, and her reduction ninjutsu to be an effective combo.  
  
Suzume as she was in the present seemed a shadow of her old self. Brow-beaten, tired, bags under her eyes, the hints of early bald spots in her hair. The civil war hadn’t been kind to her.  
  
“Any long-term concerns?” Tsunade started while she checked the files for the boy’s father. Orochimaru’s older brother. The notes seemed to indicate that he had the precursor to a kekkei genkai, but was denied treatment on account of caste considerations.  
  
“His vitiligo has stabilized, though I can’t tell what caused the change in the first place.” Suzume brushed some of her hair out of her eyes. “The bijuu’s regeneration has been increasing in effectiveness exponentially since he started learning medical ninja techniques.”  
  
Tsunade arched her brow and looked up from the file. “Could the bijuu be… using those techniques?”  
  
“We haven’t discounted it.” For a moment, the old energetic Suzume who would climb mountains for fun returned. “From past observations, the three-tails has the best chakra control of all the bijuu -- it can use genjutsu, and has been seen using rudimentary hand signs.”  
  
“...That’s terrible.” Tsunade said, her eyebrows high as she wanted Suzume to realize the problem. “The bijuu being able to use jutsu is a terrible thing. It means that they might be able to break out of seals from the inside.”  
  
“Which is why the Mizukage initially ordered the creation of the Seal of Hooks.” Suzume’s voice became more brittle as she talked, and her shadow-of-her-former-self state returned. “He wanted something to blind the bijuu with pain, so that there would be no escape.”  
  
“How typical of the Two-Faced Dragon.” Tsunade flipped through more data on the boy’s father and saw a picture of him. She made a face, and quickly flipped away. Orochimaru definitely got the good looks out of the two of them. “I don’t imagine you’ll be in a place where you can manufacture your own vaccinations for a while… might need to tell the hospital in Konoha to send you some.”  
  
“That would be greatly appreciated.”  
  
Tsunade nodded and stood to leave the room. The boy was in surprising medical health despite being overweight. She entered the next room over, where the men were talking seals, and found Jiraiya with his head in his hands and a scroll unwound on the table in front of him.  
  
Orochimaru sat on a bed and watched, impassive.  
  
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Tsunade looked at each of her teammates, and got no response. It seemed obvious what the outlook on the seal side of things looked like. “It’s bad isn’t it?”  
  
“I expect this kind of shit from Kumo,” Jiraiya snarled and tapped the scroll with his pointer finger. “I thought Kiri was better than this… well, I was wrong.”  
  
Tsunade flinched. Kumo, the worst village on the entire continent at sealing, had a bad reputation of their jinchuuriki killing more of their own forces than their enemies. “Can it be fixed?”  
  
“No.” Jiraiya shook his head. “We’d need to break the seal, since it doesn’t have a key, and seal the bijuu back in with a totally new seal. But in order to keep it from being on the loose and rampaging… we’d have to seal it into something else first. That would take hours -- then we’d need to apply the seal and put the bijuu back….” Jiraiya visibly sagged. “The kid would be dead almost immediately after the seal was broken, it’s linked directly to his nervous system. And leaving it alone isn’t an option either.” He tapped the scroll again. “They purposefully made this version of it brittle, so they could reinforce points of failure in the next version. It’s a good thing he’s not gotten into a serious life-or-death fight, or he might pull on more chakra than the seal can channel at one point.”  
  
Tsunade’s eyes shifted to Orochimaru. He was silent and stony through the proceedings. Perhaps he hadn’t gotten to know his nephew well enough to really care whether he lived or not, perhaps his yearning for a family had been such that he’d bonded right away. She couldn’t tell, from his face.  
  
“Let me look at that,” she snapped and pushed him aside with ease. It took her a minute to look at the seal notes and see the medical information among all the noise. “Shit. They hooked it into his brain stem?” That would be tricky. Really, aggressively tricky. “Damnit. I… think I’d be able to keep him alive for a while, with a full hospital setup.” Just keeping his heart beating, lungs expanding, and nerves firing would be easy. No blood involved at all. But repairing any lingering damage to the brainstem….  
  
Jiraiya twitched on the ground, useless in that instance.  
  
“There are only a few hospitals on the continent which are set up appropriately to do such a thing,” Orochimaru said, soft. He’d sussed out what Tsunade hadn’t given voice to. “The boy will not willingly come to Konoha -- not while Danzo is alive.”  
  
“Danzo?” Tsunade looked over her shoulder at Orochimaru, then back at the scroll, and tapped it with her finger as her voice was raised. “Did Danzo have something to do with this?” Oh if that slimeball had conspired with Konoha’s enemies and they finally had _proof_....  
  
“No.” Orochimaru gently shook his head. “But he knows about Danzo’s reputation.”  
  
Tsunade cursed. For a moment she’d hoped they’d finally had something to get that bastard executed for.  
  
Jiraiya sighed and sat up. “We… could maybe finish that experimental seal we’ve been working on,” he said with a meaningful look to Orochimaru. “The Seal of Hooks will crumble underneath it, but the Five Elements Seal is strong enough to keep it at least… semi-functional. It’ll buy us a couple years to get Otogakure a hospital good enough to fix this.”  
  
Orochimaru’s eyes widened a little. “I… that would take a lot of work, and money.”  
  
Tsunade scoffed. “I can share some of my medical know-how with these Oto punks,” she flicked her hand dismissively. “And I know every medical goods supplier on the continent. For my endorsement, they’ll send their best equipment to the moon if that’s my price.”  
  
“And, I don’t mean to brag,” Jiraiya said with a shrug that indicated he clearly meant to brag. “But my books sell well, and sell often. And with my network, I can scout talent all across the continent to get this place up and running -- the hospital, and a village with the income to pay for it.”  
  
Orochimaru looked at each of them, bewildered. “I… can’t ask you to do that. Not for me. Not for a nephew I’ve only just met.”  
  
“When’s the last time you asked us for anything?” Tsunade snapped, a mask of affront at her offer being pushed back hiding how amused she felt. “Any time we needed reinforcements, you came. Any time we needed a day off, you did our work _and_ yours. Having us come here was the most you’ve asked of us in our entire time together.”  
  
“You’ve done the most out of any of us, yet you live like a pauper. You keep telling Sarutobi-sensei not to pay you when the village is short on money.” Jiraiya leaned on the bed and poked Orochimaru in his sides. “Come on… let us help you out. You got lucky enough to find a family -- unless you’ve got more brothers out there somewhere with more kids, this is your only shot at a family.” He pointed his thumb at himself and Tsunade in turn. “Neither of us are going to be making any squealing brats anytime soon, so it’s the only shot for us too.”  
  
Tsunade quickly flicked Jiraiya in the side of the head and sent him flying into the wall. “He’s right,” she said despite Jiraiya’s painful squawks while embedded in the steel. “Though I believe he’s got at least a dozen ‘squealing brats’ somewhere on the continent, I have no proof.” She let her annoyed mask slip just a little so she could show her teammate how serious she was. “Let us help.”  
  
Orochimaru wasn’t big on emotional displays, but the clear gratitude in his face was enough to tell Tsunade she’d gotten through to him. Neither of them helped Jiraiya pry his head out of the wall.  
  
Naturally, none of them considered what the world at large would think of all three Sannin throwing their support at some podunk, not even finished village would do. They didn’t even think how the people back in Konoha would react.  
  
\---  
  
Bet you guys thought I wouldn't be able to finagle a way to get Oto some of their most distinct guys without Oro prowling around and swipin' kids, huh? Well you thought wrong!


	28. Had It Coming

**Ch 28: Had It Coming**  
  
\---  
  
Jounin Kurosuki  
  
After a morning of training from the monk, Raiga stumbled his way through the tent city toward his tent. To his surprise, he found his students seated outside. Noburu and Haruki had dishes wrapped in cloth which they held up at his arrival, while Junko had a cheesecloth sack which seemed to hold a black rope inside. After he invited them in, it turned out that black rope was the ‘blood pudding’ which the Kaguya had made from the hog they’d killed for the feast.  
  
“I heard that Kousuke used one of his named techniques on you,” Noburu said as he set his dish down on the jounin’s table.  
  
“That’s a lie, but here’s a great way to get him to admit the truth,” Haruki added, then pulled a faceted glass bauble of bright blue out of his pocket and twisted it in the light. Immediately Noburu’s eyes fixed on it and his gaze followed it when Haruki moved it this way and that. “See? Sparkly, yeah?”  
  
“Sparkly….”  
  
“You can have the sparkly if you tell Raiga-sensei the truth.” Haruki kept it just out of Noburu’s reach, using his greater height.  
  
“I used my byakugan to spy on you cause I wanted to see how the two of you fought,” Noburu responded as he made grabby hands for the Sparkly. When Haruki handed it over, the chubby genin held it up to his eyes like it was the only thing left in the world. “Sparkly….”  
  
Raiga forced himself not to laugh, afraid that he’d knock Noburu out of whatever Sparkly spell the bauble had him under. He distracted himself with getting the dishes the boys had provided unwrapped. Junko was using Raiga’s personal cooking station to pan fry the pudding she’d brought -- which honestly looked like a sausage.  
  
“I know, right?” Haruki grinned as Noburu continued to play with the ‘sparkly’. “It’s made him so much easier to deal with!”  
  
“This won’t work forever,” Noburu said, serene, as he gazed into his sparkly. “And when it runs its course I will have my vengeance upon you.”  
  
Haruki responded by producing a marble out of his pocket and leading Noburu away with the new ‘sparkly’.  
  
Team Raiga sat down for lunch together. White rice, blood pudding, and boiled apple dumplings. It made the aches and pains of training fade into the background. “The pumping will be finished later tonight,” Raiga said as he poked the blood pudding with his chopsticks and eventually took a bite. Not at all unpleasant. Gruesome, but tasty. “Tomorrow, former medical director Ruan and I will be using our summons to set up the elevator and ramps we’ll use to get into the village proper -- while teams dig down to the argri-dome to set up the pumps there.”  
  
“Raiga-sensei uses ant summons,” Haruki explained to Junko. “I remember Tokimi -- a fire ant who helped with welding during a construction project we did before… yeah.”  
  
“And Tsunami,” Noburu muttered, “a coastal ant who helped me with setting stonework for a foundation.”  
  
Raiga nodded. “They’ll be there to help. As well as Suzume’s ninja rats.” He took a bite of rice along with the pudding. “Shark and eel summons won’t be of much use in construction -- so the Hoshigaki and Hozuki get to take a well-deserved rest.”  
  
“Ooh!” Junko rose partially from her seat and waved her hand like she was in class. When Raiga pointed his chopsticks at her, she did a fist-pump as if she had been competing with others on who would get to speak. “My family has an heirloom contract we can use to help out! Rabbit summons!”  
  
“Yes!” Raiga said with clear enthusiasm. “Rabbits can help with the digging!”  
  
“Knowing you the way I do,” Haruki said to Junko with a side-eyed look, “these rabbits are probably fully carnivorous and have the ability to turn their ears into lobsters or something.”  
  
Junko tilted her head. “We… all have access to the transformation jutsu. If we’re good enough with it, we can all have lobster ears. That’s not exactly a useful power, if everyone can do it….”  
  
Haruki was promptly cut off from a retort when Noburu’s lobster ear pinched him on the nose.  
  
“See! Noburu knows what I’m talking about!”  
  
Raiga couldn’t hold it in anymore, and laughed like he hadn’t in years. He laughed so much he slapped the table, until he could hardly breathe.  
  
Though the world would rain hell on them eventually, right then and there they were happy.  
  
\--  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke  
  
He cracked one eye open and saw the three Sannin standing before him. Not unexpected, given they were ninja. He just didn’t think they’d be so foolishly direct. The monk closed his eye again, an intentional slight against the legendary ninja.  
  
“What is it this time, Orochimaru?”  
  
He was in a pose of meditation while his fellow monks from the Water Temple lay sleeping. They had not yet mastered harmony and focus to where their bodies could be at rest in all configurations.  
  
“Orochimaru tells us your seal is broken,” the other male Sannin, Jiraiya commented with one hand on his hip. “We’re hoping you’d tell us how you’re keeping the six-tails contained if that’s the case.”  
  
“Saiken chooses to stay.” Kousuke shrugged.  
  
“You can’t expect us to believe that.”  
  
“Of course I can. For one simple reason -- I have no reason to lie to you.” Kousuke opened his eyes just a sliver and looked at them with an arched brow. “Satisfied?”  
  
“You might have no reason to lie, but what about the six-tails?” Jiraiya’s eyes narrowed. He wanted Kousuke’s attention on him so Orochimaru’s summons could sneak up on him, and Tsunade analyze him for a punch. Ninja were quite stealthy against each other, samurai, or a lay person. But to a student of harmony and focus -- they were ever so slightly obvious with their intention.  
  
Saiken came in response to the accusation, and spoke through Kousuke’s lips. “Alla you, humans, you ain’t got nothin’ I want. Yeah? Got a job to be doin’, and you just be makin’ it harder. Feh!” Saiken flicked Kousuke’s hand dismissively.  
  
Kousuke was in control again, and arched his brow once more. “Done?”  
  
Things happened rapidly after that. The ninja moved, the monk moved, a faint gust of air moved across the sleeping monks but did not wake them.  
  
Kousuke’s staff rang out as it struck Jiraiya in the head and sent him flying out of the tent. Orochimaru’s snakes lashed out and were calmly knocked unconscious with two flicks to their noses. Tsunade lashed out with her legendary strength and Kousuke caught her fist in his palm. She looked surprised, but that surprise turned to shock as Kousuke constricted his hand around her fist to the point where all could hear the bones dislocate. She too was driven from the tent, by way of a staff blow to her forehead.  
  
Orochimaru wove chakra into a genjutsu to try and snare Kousuke that way. Saiken threaded his chakra through the monk’s system and broke it as easily as breathing. This clearly surprised the snake Sannin as he was off-guard when Kousuke blew a bubble in his mouth and ejected it at Orochimaru. The bubble struck him in the nose, made him recoil, then burst and sent a wave of pressurized air which physically expelled the ninja. The gust threw one of the blankets off a sleeping monk, so Kousuke bent to put it back before she woke.  
  
When he stepped out of the tent, into the gentle snowfall, the Sannin had recovered. Jiraiya had bits of rock in his hair, and a nearby boulder had a dent in it. Tsunade’s hand was red, but it looked like she’d regained its use. There was a minor burn across Orochimaru’s nose, but he seemed more annoyed than in pain.  
  
“Is this how it’s going to be with you Konoha ninja?” Kousuke asked calmly, and moved his hat into position. A precaution against any visual genjutsu they tried -- Saiken shouldn’t have to do all the work on that front. “Attempting to use violence to change an answer you don’t like?”  
  
“The six-tails speaks through you,” Jiraiya said with an annoyed growl. “You’ve damaged the seal somehow and don’t see the danger you’re putting other people in when it escapes.”  
  
“Funny. Here I thought he would escape when I finished my rebellion, or when I threw myself into combat against Kiri’s armies all alone, or when the village he hated was laid low.” Kousuke calmly counted his points off on his fingers. “He doesn’t need to escape -- he can leave whenever he wishes.” Kousuke focused on Orochimaru. “Have you even spoken to Noburu about this? He and Isobu have a plan for when he dies -- to stop Madara Uchiha’s goal of enslaving the whole world.”  
  
Jiraiya’s eyes glanced at Orochimaru, as did Tsunade’s. The former’s with mild interest, and the latter’s outright confusion.  
  
“Have you told Princess Tsunade that her grandfather’s enemy still lives, has stolen and profaned the First Hokage’s corpse, or his plans?” Kousuke shook his head. “Noburu can tell you everything. Go speak to him about it.”  
  
“You two have some explaining to do when this is over,” Tsunade hissed moments before she charged.  
  
“Talk later, fight now,” Jiraiya hissed back before he likewise did so.  
  
Kousuke rolled his eyes and tapped the base of his staff into the ground. **“Yin-Yang Release: …”** he spoke as the rings clanged in increasing frequency and volume. Time seemed to slow. **“Everything is Nothing.”** The ninja were slowed. Birds that remained in Wave’s trees were slowed. The snowfall slowed to a crawl. Kousuke calmly moved while the ninja slowly travelled through the air. The three in front of him were obvious shadow clones -- he dispelled them with a quick jab in each direction. The Orochimaru clone’s eyes widened as he seemed to follow Kousuke’s movements for a second before he too was dispelled.  
  
He waited in place and felt the ground shift underneath his feet slightly. Kousuke reached down and thrust his hand through the dirt as it erupted upwards. He pulled the Toad Sage, once confident in his surprise, out of the soil and tossed him in the air. The man’s face was still in the transition to surprise while Kousuke let him go. Slowly, he rose through the air as momentum decreed.  
  
 **“Yin-Yang Release: Part the Sea.”** Kousuke stilled the storm inside himself and could see an orb of purple energy within Jiraiya. Chakra, the combination of physical and spiritual energy. Quick in the slowed-down world, Kousuke delivered three blows to the Sannin’s chest. Ripples of his chakra spread through Jiraiya’s body and while Kousuke looked the mass of chakra within the sage split into blue and red in a yin-yang pattern.  
  
Jiraiya was out of the fight. The world began to speed up ever so slightly.  
  
Tsunade had been in the air the whole time -- a pincer attack to strike Kousuke while Jiraiya held him fast. Kousuke blew a bubble and used it to encase Tsunade’s punching fist, and stepped aside. When she punched down onto a bubble, it burst -- acid burns surrounded her hand and made her face contort in pain for a brief moment. **“Yin-Yang Release: Part the Sea.”** Tsunade found herself struck as Jiraiya had been, and her purple chakra split into red and blue. Two down, one to go.  
  
The world began to speed up ever so slightly.  
  
Snakes burst from the ground and lashed out with fangs bared. And then they found themselves knocked unconscious on the ground with many a flick to their noses. The ground began to rumble, like a sound that tunneled toward Kousuke’s tent, and the sleeping monks inside.  
  
A powerful stomp cracked the stone and soil, and sent a foot’s worth of displaced earth down like a spear to strike the digger, and dispel the shadow clone that had hoped to take hostages. With the clone broken, Orochimaru emerged from the earth -- his mouth agape and full of snakes to bite at Kousuke with.  
  
 **“Yin Release: Glimpse of Shangri-La.”** Kousuke thrust the ring-laden head of his staff through the mass of snakes, and struck Orochimaru in the head gently. With time slowed, the ringing from the shakujo’s hoops echoed ominously as they picked up speed and intensity. A blinding light shone from the holy instrument, which lit up the Konoha symbol on Orochimaru’s headband and made his eyes shine with the same. The snakes left Orochimaru’s mouth as time returned to normal. The Sannin fell to the ground, and laid limp on his side -- his eyes wide, and streaming tears. **“Yin-Yang Release: Part the Sea.”** Orochimaru flinched when Kousuke struck him, and split the purple chakra into red and blue.  
  
With all three Sannin incapacitated, Kousuke tilted his hat back and regarded them. Jiraiya seemed the most able to move, with Tsunade distracted with her injured hands. Orochimaru had yet to recover from his vision of absolute happiness.  
  
Tsunade forced her injured hands to make seals, but nothing came of it. “My chakra… I can’t use it.”  
  
“No, you can’t.” Kousuke calmly replied and walked around them. He made sure to tap his staff on the ground regularly, that the ninja could flinch when they heard it. “A technique Noburu helped me develop. His insight into the infinite cosmos is… inspiring. I’ve split your chakra back into physical and spiritual energy, which needs to recombine before you can do anything with it. Given how much the three of you had… I’d estimate a timeframe of nineteen days.” The monk smiled. “You three look like you have some talks you need to have, so I’m going to let you go. This time. Don’t try this again.” With that, he flicked his free hand in a ‘shoo’ gesture, then returned to his tent.  
  
\--  
  
Genin Fujimoto  
  
“Princess, wake up.” Noburu muttered as he shook Haruki awake.  
  
The boy sat up from his cot and pulled his peacock-patterned eye mask up to glare. It was clear from the lack of sunlight that it was earlier than they’d planned for either of them to be up. “What the hell are you waking me up for?” He snarled, and glared at his teammate. “It’s not even morning yet.”  
  
“Technically any time past four a-m is morning,” Noburu said with his pointer finger up. The genin sighed and pulled his pajama hat off. “But we have surprise guests. And I need you there so I don’t laugh at them.”  
  
“We can hear you, brat,” a man’s voice groused from the main room.  
  
Noburu glared daggers at the voice, and sighed again. “I’d appreciate your help.”  
  
“Who are they?” Haruki asked as he got out of bed and fished for clean clothes out of his luggage. Noburu did the same, so the boys were occupied getting dressed for a couple minutes.  
  
“The Sannin.” Noburu mentioned it like it was a huge hassle. “They picked a fight with Kousuke and lost hardcore.”  
  
“We can still hear you, brat!” The man’s voice said again, more annoyed.  
  
“Good, maybe you’ll reflect on your bad decisions!” Noburu shook his head when Haruki looked at him questioningly. “I don’t know why they fought -- just that they did, and Kousuke won.”  
  
“The Sannin are in there,” Haruki asked in a whisper. He pointed, and almost forgot to turn his shirt around the correct direction when Noburu nodded. “You can’t be talking like that to the Sannin!”  
  
“Why not? They can’t do nothing about it for a couple weeks -- since all of them fucked around and found out.” Noburu started putting on his leg-warmers and all but shouted: “And if they think they want to start something after -- I can tell Tsunade what’s on page thirty-one of Icha-Icha number two, and that Orochimaru knew about it but didn’t tell her!”  
  
When Haruki and Noburu entered the main room, Akami was furiously cooking in the kitchen and the three legendary Sannin sat at the table. The toad sage Jiraiya, Princess Tsunade of the Leaf, and Noburu’s uncle -- Orochimaru. The men were looking at Tsunade with terror -- Jiraiya more visibly than Orochimaru, while Tsunade had a serious expression fixed on Noburu.  
  
Haruki sat at an empty chair, and watched as Noburu walked around to Tsunade and began to apply medical chakra to her hands.  
  
“Page thirty-one, you said?” Tsunade softly asked Haruki’s teammate. When he nodded, she nodded too, and glared at the men. “And… if I were to find out what was on page thirty-one of….”  
  
“Icha-Icha number two,” Noburu clarified.  
  
“Thank you. What do you think my reaction would be?”  
  
Noburu paused in his healing to make another handsign. With a cloud of smoke, a shadow clone stoof behind him, and promptly transformed into a small box with a sort of grille on the front which sat on the table. Noburu pressed a button on it, and went back to healing.  
  
 _“Well,”_ Tsunade’s voice, breathless, spoke from the box. _“I was in such a state of shock, I completely blacked out. I don’t remember a thing.”_ Her voice turned coy, and began to shift toward enraged with the next sentence. _“It wasn’t until later, when I was washing the blood off my hands, that I even knew they were dead! They had it coming~”_  
  
A musical number had appeared to be about to start before Haruki leaned across and tapped the same button Noburu had hit to make the sounds start. They didn’t want to make the neighbors mad from loud music before dawn.  
  
Tsunade clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and glared daggers at her teammates. “Good to know, good to know.”  
  
“Yep,” Jiraiya said to Orochimaru and tried to make his neck vanish into his torso. “Definitely related to you. Knows how to twist a knife, he does.”  
  
“ _You_ brought this on us,” Orochimaru muttered in reply. “You and your lack of decency.”  
  
Haruki noticed that the man had a burn mark on his nose, and tapped Noburu’s clone box then pointed it out.  
  
The clone sighed, and returned to its humanoid shape before it walked over and began to heal his uncle’s nose.  
  
“And you didn’t tell your teammate,” Akami said and pointed a ladle at Orochimaru. “That makes you at fault too.” She seemed irate to have been woken up so early from how angrily she made what appeared to be egg-fried rice. Haruki was sure it would be angrily delicious.  
  
Orochimaru sighed, but didn’t counter the point. “Noburu, Kousuke… his seal is damaged.”  
  
“Not damaged, removed,” Noburu clarified. “I know already. That’s good, it’s a sign of trust between jinchuuriki and bijuu. It’s an important milestone in becoming a perfect jinchuuriki.”  
  
Jiraiya made a face. “What? Do you have any idea what you’re talking about?” He sounded genuinely insulted.  
  
“Mom? Wooden spoon?” Noburu caught the wooden spoon Akami tossed to him and promptly cracked Jiraiya on the knuckles with it. “Which one of us got Kurama to sleep through the transfer where you had them _nailed to a goddamn iron ball?!_ ” Noburu all but roared and pointed the spoon like a weapon at Jiraiya. “Was it you?! No? Then yes -- I know what I’m talking about!”  
  
While Jiraiya glared and rubbed his abused hand, Tsunade arched a brow and turned to face Orochimaru. “Yep. Definitely related to you.”  
  
“So,” Haruki said, a bit afraid to speak in the situation where three legendary ninja would remember his face. “Um. What brings you here in the early morning?”  
  
Tsunade was the one to answer him. “Kousuke told us we might want to talk to you… after our encounter with him.” She looked down at Noburu. “And I’d really like to know how Madara Uchiha is alive, and how exactly he profaned my grandfather’s body.”  
  
Noburu sighed and resumed his healing of the Princess’ hands. “Alright well…”  
  
Haruki knew what was about to happen, and clapped his hands to his ears while Noburu told Tsunade the answer to her question.  
  
“... He stitched my grandfather’s face onto **his what**?!”  
  
\---  
  
He had it coming! (He had it coming!) He had it coming! (He had it coming!)  
  
He only had himself to blame! (Himself to blame!)  
  
If you’d have been there! (If you’d have been there!) If you’d have seen it! (If you’d have seen it!)  
  
 **I betcha you would have done the same!**


	29. Keep You Honest

**Ch 29: Keep You Honest**  
  
\---  
  
Mercenary-nin Kanzaki  
  
She’d let the caravan management know so they could be prepared -- but there wasn’t much to be done. Kimiko confirmed that one of the Swamp Country ninja clans had narrowed in on them -- at range, where they mostly observed. Sayaka wasn’t a sensor, she couldn’t pin down exactly where they were or their strengths. But Kimiko could keep an eye out for them, and counted at least thirty individuals.  
  
When the caravan moved, it was with their hunters in the trees, in the waters, and in the mists all around them. Sayaka used water clones to help set up her traps at every camp site, along with sparing use of the hidden mist jutsu so the nature of her traps remained unknown to the enemy.  
  
Some of the management team held out hope that the ninja just wanted to watch them while the caravan passed through their territory. Sayaka held no such belief.  
  
Thirty plus ninja of unknown strength versus a battlefield control chunin and twelve mundane warriors? She didn’t need to be a Hoshigaki to see a juicy fish waiting to be eaten. They could overwhelm her, as their presence kept her from creating in-depth traps around the camp -- and the defenders would be useless against ninja.  
  
So why didn’t they attack?  
  
Days turned into a week, and they continued to hunt the caravan.  
  
“They move closer every day,” Kimiko muttered as her eyes rotated in different directions. “Some of them by centimeters, some by meters. But still, they come.” The chameleon’s colors shifted with her concern. “It won’t be long now.”  
  
Sayaka wrapped the last of the trip-wires she’d intended to set and wiped the sweat from her brow. All around them was the mist which had been the trademark of her village. Now an antique. “We have to be ready for when it happens,” she said and started back toward the caravan.  
  
“They are coming,” Kimiko said, breathless.  
  
Sayaka processed what she’d heard, and snapped her hand to her nodaichi. As she turned, she drew the weapon. Her steel was deflected off the blade of a kunai. She glimpsed her enemy before she lept back. A tall figure in grey pants and a long-sleeved shirt with a white haori, gloved hands, and a mane of bright blonde hair with a featureless forehead protector. The swamp-clan kunoichi regarded the much younger former Kiri-nin and narrowed her eyes.  
  
“Little girl,” the swamp-clan ninja said with a curious tone, “I have some questions. If you answer them, my clan and I might let you go.”  
  
Kimiko flared her colors in a threat display, she stood on Sayaka’s shoulder with her eyes in motion to find new threats. “They are moving all around us, I see three obvious weak points in their formation -- all of them are likely to be traps for burrowing ninja.”  
  
The swamp-clan kunoichi spun her kunai around on her fingers. “That chameleon is really observant.” She focused on Sayaka again. “Answers for this problem going away. Seem a fair deal?”  
  
Sayaka ran the numbers in her head. Just because they had surrounded her didn’t mean they hadn’t already started the attack on the caravan. But none of her alarms had been triggered -- none of the warning tags she placed on the wagons registered blood being spilled. “...Ask your questions,” she said, but kept her sword drawn.  
  
“Your caravan is one of dozens which have passed through our lands,” the kunoichi said and swept her arm across the swampy surroundings. “My clan has plundered most of them -- we’re doing quite well for ourselves. But the caravans keep coming, no matter how many of them meet their doom. Why is that? What is going on that these people will risk their lives for profit?”  
  
Sayaka didn’t know where to start with that. But she couldn’t risk being off-guard, so she answered dispassionately, as if it had happened to someone else. “The daimyo of Honey and Noodle countries are being married. Since the daimyo of Water Country died -- they are absorbing Water Country’s lands into theirs to form a new country -- Soup.”  
  
The swamp clans kunoichi’s eyebrows shot up. “Water Country will cease to be? A nation that bridges the continent to the subcontinent? Now this senseless waste of life makes sense.” She looked away and cupped her chin in the crook of her thumb and pointer finger. “This Soup Country will become very rich, very quickly. Hmmm….” She looked over at Sayaka again. “And what of Kirigakure? They have agreed to this?”  
  
That stung more than she cared to admit, and from how the swamp-nin’s eyes narrowed a bit she saw how it affected Sayaka. “Kiri’s ninja have been banished.” Her hand shook a little before she steeled her resolve. “They’re gathering in Wave to make a new village.”  
  
“And those who choose not to go to Wave?”  
  
“Will become mercenary-ninja, as we both are.”  
  
The kunoichi nodded and spun her kunai between her fingers. “Seems like the market is about to become a lot more competitive. Is that why you’re going in that direction, little girl?”  
  
Sayaka tensed and didn’t answer.  
  
“That’s a Kirigakure flak jacket. So let me guess, you were out on a mission when the news broke… so you’re hoping to get to this new village when they’re willing to accept anyone and everyone who shows up just to get off the ground.” The swamp-clan kunoichi grinned, self-satisfied. “Did I hit the mark?”  
  
 _Not exactly_ , Sayaka thought as she narrowed her eyes. _But too closely for comfort._  
  
“They are closing in on us,” Kimiko said as she continued to look around. “There are less here than my initial estimate -- the others must be elsewhere.”  
  
“So I’m right.” The swamp-ninja nodded to herself. “Well. With Kirigakure splintering like that -- I think now is as good a time as any to get out of the solo game and sign onto a village.”  
  
The mist began to dissipate, and Sayaka could see how thoroughly surrounded she was. There were easily a dozen or so ninja -- all dressed like the kunoichi but in different colors. Their hair was all of uniform length and style -- equally spikey -- but of wildly different colors. Some of them seemingly unnatural, wigs perhaps? Their forehead protectors had no allegiance shown.  
  
Something clicked with Sayaka, and she raised her sword up higher. “You said you’ve raided dozens of caravans all bound for the wedding.”  
  
“Mhm,” the kunoichi with the blonde wig said as a smile grew across her face.  
  
“You had to hear about this from some of them. They’d tell you anything to make the killing stop.”  
  
“Mhm.” Her smile grew wider.  
  
“Then you’d figure out what was really happening from the consistencies in the stories.”  
  
“You’re coming closer to the big question.”  
  
Sayaka and Kimiko looked around wildly. There was only a dozen ninja around them -- thirteen including their spokeswoman. Where were the rest? Were they waiting to attack the caravan?  
  
“You didn’t need to stop and ask me for anything.” Sayaka gave voice to a gnawing fear which had grown in her since she pieced it together. “Why am I alive right now?”  
  
The woman smiled wider just a smidge, unhinged for a moment before it melted down into a smug tone. “Uemon,” she said and gestured around her. “That’s our clan. We are known among the swamp clans for our use of poisons. Specifically inhaled poisons.”  
  
 _Oh_ , Sayaka thought as Kimiko’s colors rapidly changed with her shock. “So… I’m already dead, I just haven’t started to feel it yet?”  
  
“Them’s the breaks.” The kunoichi of the Uemon clan said with a shrug. “Your chameleon friend doesn’t have worry though.” She winked at Kimiko. “This poison only works on humans. But….” She leaned forward and dropped a small cork-stopped vial out of her sleeve into her hand. “I have an antidote. Which I will helpfully provide to you.” She tossed it to Sayaka, but Kimiko caught it so Sayaka didn’t have to take a hand off her blade. “For being honest.”  
  
Her heartbeat began to speed up, her coat suddenly seemed to grow heavier than she recalled. “What’s the catch?”  
  
“What catch?” The kunoichi shrugged. “My clan’s already poisoned all the caravaneers back there. Soon their goods will join others in my clan’s sudden riches.” She spread her arms wide, and the ninja around them chuckled. “But… you seem to be heading to Wave. We’re going that way too, since none of us want to compete with every Kiri hotshot for a job.” She put her hands on her hips, clearly pleased with herself. “So how about we join up, and head that way together?”  
  
Sayaka’s vision began to cloud. Her ability to see the ninja around them deteriorated rapidly. “W...why?”  
  
“My clan doesn’t believe in squandering talent.” Her voice began to drag in places -- perhaps Sayaka’s hearing was off. “Your traps kept us away for a while, until we worked around them. You did good, little girl. That’s reason enough.”  
  
Kimiko nudged Sayaka with the vial, the chameleon had uncorked it and offered it to her to drink. Sayaka opened her mouth and let the chameleon pour it in. The effects of the poison didn’t reverse immediately, but she stopped feeling worse every moment. “Y-you killed my ca-ravan.”  
  
“Yep. Neither you or they liked each other very much. But if you want to die to avenge their honor -- by all means.” The kunoichi spun her kunai into a stabbing position. “Come at me.”  
  
Sayaka looked at Kimiko, as if she had insight. The chameleon’s colors shifted, and she met Kimiko’s eyes. “You failed in your duty to keep them safe, but there was no option but failure,” the chameleon said, soft. “They should not have tried to cross the swamps without more ninja. They should have taken a ship at the capital of Swamp Country, and not died. But they didn’t. Dying for them would accomplish nothing.”  
  
Slowly, Sayaka lowered her sword. She looked around, at the ninja who surrounded her. “So… what do we do first?”  
  
The kunoichi advanced on her and extended her hand. “Kokoro Uemon.”  
  
Sayaka took it and shook, weaker than she would have liked. “Sayaka Kanzaki.”  
  
“To answer your question, the first thing we do is get you a wig -- because your bald head keeps catching the light.”  
  
It hurt because Sayaka knew it was true.  
  
\--  
  
Third Hokage  
  
Hiruzen flipped between pages in a book, a recent purchase from Jiraiya’s publisher. He’d finished his work for the day and felt he’d earned some relaxation time. However, he was rudely interrupted by his door being opened without his invitation. Three people stode into the office of the Hokage as if they owned it, and uniformly had displeased looks for Hiruzen.  
  
Two were his teammates of old. Homura Mitokado, a taller man with glasses and a hair style similar to Hiruzen’s. He had little ornamentation and was humble when not agitated. And Koharu Utatane, his inverse, a woman dressed in the latest fashion from twenty years ago and with heavily ornamented pins thrust through her hair bun. Between them was Hiruzen’s friend, the one-eyed and heavily scarred Danzo Shimura, all in black as ever.  
  
“What are you playing at, Sarutobi,” Homura demanded.  
  
“Hmm?” Hiruzen looked down at his book and then showed them the cover. “It’s a choose your own adventure story my student wrote.”  
  
“Not that!” The bespectacled council member glared. “You have had Anbu watching the Hyuga long enough for them to notice. Both Jiraiya and Orochimaru have left to the village -- long enough for our enemies to notice!”  
  
“And our watchers have confirmed,” Koharu smoothly added, “that Princess Tsunade and Jiraiya have both met up with Orochimaru at Wave. An explanation is owed.”  
  
Danzo silently watched Hiruzen, his face blank.  
  
Hiruzen arched his brow and gestured for his secretary to close the door behind his guests. “Orochimaru was dispatched on a C-class mission with his genin team to establish contact and peaceful relations with Otogakure. I’m sure that was in the mission log.” He got nods of confirmation. None dared bring up the topic of Kushina’s place on Orochimaru’s team, or the existence of the team at all. “I received notices from Orochimaru that certain information from Otogakure, if it became widely known, could lead to conflict with the Hyuga clan. He has not provided details as to what.” Hiruzen didn’t blink under the glares of his fellows, and leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped. “A little while later, Orochimaru sent notice that Otogakure had accepted the terms the daimyo had approved of, and they were officially an ally of Konoha and Fire Country. However, a day later he sent an emergency message that one of Oto’s two jinchuuriki’s seal was FUBAR, and requested Jiraiya’s aid immediately.”  
  
“Orochimaru is skilled enough at seals to make repairs,” Koharu said, and waved her hand dismissively. “What else did the message say? What else did Orochimaru request?”  
  
Hiruzen’s eyes narrowed -- that was an obvious bit of bait. “The message was just that. However,” Hiruzen said as he pulled a scroll from a drawer in his desk. “I received a request for clarification from Tsunade -- she apparently received a request for help too. My advice to her was to reinforce Orochimaru as he requested.”  
  
“You didn’t demand more information?” Danzo spoke up, at last. His one eye remained emotionless as ever.  
  
“No.” Hiruzen responded and met Danzo’s gaze equally as emotionless. “Per the law, information that could lead to clan-based conflict must be relayed to the Hokage by word of mouth -- not written down.”  
  
His teammates made unpleasant faces. That particular law was put into place by the Second Hokage, when tensions between the clans were at their highest. By all rights, it should have been repealed after the village’s unity became stronger -- but Hiruzen had made no effort to do so.  
  
“Hmm,” Danzo said. He averted his gaze and walked toward the windows which lined half the Hokage’s office. “Not long ago the chemical lab logged a blood test done comparing an unknown sample to Orochimaru’s DNA. We don’t know how this sample was obtained -- or where it is. Near as we can tell, it was conducted by Orochimaru himself.” The man’s reflected eye locked with Hiruzen’s own. “But we have logged the results. A partial match -- indicative of a family relation. Shortly after this, Orochimaru is assigned a genin team, and deployed on a political mission with rather generous terms of alliance.” Danzo left the room quiet for a minute while they processed what he’d said. “Are these events related, Sarutobi?”  
  
Hiruzen raised his eyebrow and glanced at his teammates. “It’s a relatively simple matter. We found extended family members of Orochimaru’s while in Water Country, and confirmed they were bound for Wave after Kiri was dissolved.”  
  
“Ah.” Danzo nodded. “So when will they be brought to Konoha?”  
  
“They won’t be.”  
  
“Allowing them to remain in Oto is out of the question,” Homura said with a dismissive wave. “We can’t have relatives of one of our best and brightest in another village’s hands. Our alliance can end as easily as it was formed when the next war comes.”  
  
“Homura, think on it a little more,” Koharu said and patted her teammate on his arm. She directed a narrow-eyed expression at Hiruzen. “Sarutobi said that one of Oto’s jinchuuriki required repairs to their seal? And Orochimaru was related to someone in Water Country? It’s rather obvious, now that I say those two next to each other, isn’t it?”  
  
“One of his relatives is a jinchuuriki.” Danzo correctly guessed. “Which just means the case for them being brought to Konoha is stronger.”  
  
Hiruzen rolled his eyes upward like he was considering the facts. “Well they refuse to come to Konoha while you’re alive, Danzo. So if that’s what you want….”  
  
“...May I ask why?”  
  
“Your reputation precedss you.” Hiruzen shrugged. As if that explained everything, and neatly covered everything he wasn’t going to tell them. “They will remain in Oto. We need to accept that.”  
  
“...Keeping a jinchuuriki captive is not impossible,” Homura said after a silence followed. “Orochimaru’s… unfortunate relative could be made a prisoner of ours, until their attitude changes.”  
  
“Which would turn Orochimaru against us,” Danzo replied, as if it were obvious.  
  
“And I wouldn’t allow it, anyway.” Hiruzen arched his brow at his teammate. “Why are you so dead set on this? Oto is just starting out, and Wave is tiny. They could not hope to escape our shadow within our lifetimes.”  
  
“Orochimaru will be the next Hokage, most likely,” Koharu responded and slashed her hand through the air. “We cannot afford to have foreign influences affect the Hokage, as it could lead to a greater resource expenditure than is appropriate. It opens the door to corruption, and could spiral into the loss of Konoha’s prominence.”  
  
“So you argue a slippery slope exists?” Hiruzen shook his head. “I disagree. I think having such a strong relationship outside the village extends our influence just a little wider than it would otherwise. No one expects Nadeshiko to ally with us, after they are given such a position of prominence.” He took a long breath, to steel himself for a discussion he really should have had earlier. “And it is not certain that Orochimaru will be the Hokage.”  
  
“One of your other students then,” Kotaru rolled her eyes visibly. “The risk is reduced, but not eliminated.”  
  
“No, not Jiraiya or Tsunade. I’m compiling a list of candidates, and right now Orochimaru is in the top three. But there are other, better candidates.”  
  
His teammates looked absolutely flummoxed. Danzo, however, narrowed his eye dangerously. “Who?” He demanded.  
  
“That is need-to-know information. I’m currently doing my own evaluation before I bring the topic up to the jounin commander and the daimyo. Both of whom have a vote in the selection process.” He looked at them with a hardened gaze. “While none of you do.”  
  
An air of tension filled the room as the council glared at the Hokage, to different degrees.  
  
“When the candidates are finalized, it will no longer be need-to-know information. You will have to wait.”  
  
“You say it’s need-to-know, but admit that Jiraiya and Tsunade are not on the list.” Koharu accused the Hokage. “What are you getting at?”  
  
“He thinks we’ll go after candidates we don’t approve of,” Danzo muttered. “I’m glad to see we have so much trust between us, Sarutobi.”  
  
“You have your answer. Until further information comes to my desk about the situation in Oto, you know everything I know.” With that done, Hiruzen picked up his book, and resumed his reading. “I trust you can see yourselves out.”  
  
He expected Koharu and Homura to be as furious as their faces implied, but Danzo seemed relatively calm for the way the talk ended. Though Hiruzen got a terrible feeling, like when he was a child and would provoke a hornet’s nest.  
  
He then stopped in his reading to wonder why exactly he’d thought it a good idea as a child to provoke hornet’s nests. He remembered Danzo being involved most of the time -- but the details were fuzzy.  
  
He flipped a final page in his choose your own adventure story, and frowned. “Dangit. The chest was a mimic. Back to page one….”  
  
\---  
  
I’m trying to gradually work in enough details and traits to make it seem like the shinobi continent and the sub-continent have sort of distinct cultures. How am I doing? Is it noticeable? Hopefully with the Uemon in Oto, I’ll be able to show it more as the story goes on.  
  
By the way if anyone knows what 'Uemon' translates to, hit me up. I've only found it in Hiragana and can't be certain of the translation.


	30. Nightmare Slain

**Ch 30: Nightmare Slain**  
  
\---  
  
Isobu  
  
Isobu felt an intruder in the midst of his dominion, and woke from his sleep. There, on the hook of his seal, he saw a red-headed figure, distant. Kurama was still asleep, so Isobu had to send his host to meet her and invite her in.  
  
“Well met,” he greeted her and shook bubbles free of his massive body. “I am Isobu -- three-tails, spirit of the sea.”  
  
He watched the girl -- Kurama’s jinchuuriki -- first struggle with the idea of being underwater without need of air, and then with his sheer size. For some reason, humans were a lot more afraid of large aquatic creatures than land or airborne ones.  
  
Isobu waited for her to speak -- he knew she would have something to say to him, and he wanted her to find closure for her emotional injury.  
  
“You… were there,” Kushina said, and glanced at Noburu. “I remember seeing you. You rampaged at Uzushio when they destroyed the village.”  
  
The waters around Isobu spun with a sudden current of memory. “Yes,” he admitted. “A Uzushio seal-master broke that which bound me to my jinchuuriki. I was free.”  
  
“You… did a lot of damage to the village when you did. But if you hadn’t made those huge waves….” Kushina visibly struggled with the memory, she was too young for such feelings -- but the world was cruel. “If you hadn’t made those waves -- the fires would have killed us all.”  
  
She had a point she was working towards making. Noburu and Isobu both had the patience to wait for her to reach it.  
  
“So… I guess, thank you. For helping us by smashing our village with a tidal wave.” She was so bitter about that, Isobu wanted to offer comfort. But that was not his part to play in the scene. “You’re… the spirit of the sea, yeah?” When Isobu nodded, enough to generate a current itself, Kushina continued. “What… happened to them? Are they haunting the village?”  
  
Isobu knew, from Noburu’s gaze, that the girl was in no mood for the truth. That he didn’t _know_ what happened to them. But a comforting lie would let the girl recover a little bit faster, and could be the difference between a healthy mind and a diseased one.  
  
“...As the steward of the seas, in the absence of the gods, it was my duty to ferry their souls into the ocean. Some may choose to be reborn as ocean currents, fish, whales, other life forms. Or they can move on to the final rest, if that is their preference.” Isobu leaned down to look at the girl with his one open eye. “One of them chose to be reborn as a creature so small, it can see in between grains of sand. That’s all I recall before they sealed me again.”  
  
The girl, at first afraid that Isobu had drawn so close, smiled a little as he humanized the lie a bit. “I… think I know who that was.” She looked at Isobu, and it was like she really saw him for the first time. “You’re… not as scary as the fox.”  
  
“Kurama is angry all the time. They are the spirit of justice,” Isobu quickly held a hand up to his spikey jaw as if to hide his lip motions from spies, “but I do not advise you to call them that. Justice requires them to be angry frequently.”  
  
Kushina’s hand drifted down to her stomach. “Justice…?”  
  
Isobu nodded. “The pursuit of justice will express Kurama through you -- and perhaps calm their anger enough to where they are not made to sleep at all times.” He glanced at Noburu. “Speaking of which -- shall I send you off to practice with Mito?”  
  
The turtle spirit watched them drift away into the limbo between the bijuu’s domains, and settled down to rest as well. From the movements of Noburu’s thoughts, he had an idea of what sort of melancholy music they would teach to Kushina.  
  
The words echoed down to Isobu’s domain as he actively listened.  
  
\--  
  
 _“Leaves from the vine, falling so slow  
Like fragile, tiny shells -- drifting in the foam.  
Little soldier boy, come marching home.  
Brave soldier boy, comes marching home.”_  
  
\--  
  
Genin Aburame  
  
“Sensei,” Shibi said and bowed to his teacher after their morning exercise. “I have conducted extensive reconnaissance on all the genin in Otogakure. It is my professional belief that most of them are more combat-ready than Konoha’s genin, but they are not properly motivated to make use of it.” He rose from his bow while Kushina and Hizashi rested from their sparring match. “Does your engagement order stand, or is this intel sufficient?”  
  
Orochimaru-sensei had been Shibi’s sparring partner. His lack of chakra didn’t stop his skill at martial arts, so he taught them taijutsu. The Sannin relaxed from his fighting stance and considered the genin. “I suppose that is sufficient. It’s taken you a lot of work to gather that information without anyone noticing bugs in winter -- I imagine.”  
  
Relief flooded Shibi before he got control of it. His insects were already at risk with the cold -- but his teammates had decided to go after the genin which included Orochimaru-sensei’s nephew. The one which had remained unchallenged was perfectly suited to leave Shibi with nothing.  
  
He hoped his teammates would understand. He didn’t want them to think him a coward.  
  
“Hizashi,” Orochimaru-sensei said to break the silence. “Noburu has asked to see you. He said he had the first draft done for you -- whatever the secret project of yours is.”  
  
The Hyuga bowed and stood resolute in the face of his sensei’s obvious prodding. “I will show it off when I have honed it to perfection, sensei. A totally new taijutsu style, using wind release.”  
  
That got Kushina and Shibi’s eyebrows to rise.  
  
“I can’t wait to see it,” Orochimaru-sensei said with a smile.  
  
The Hyuga nodded, and ran off.  
  
“Kushina -- you said you wanted to practice more taijutsu?” Orochimaru-sensei gestured that she and Shibi should move apart when she confirmed it. “We’re going to work on kunai forms now. One kunai each, and assume the guard position….”  
  
They trained like that for close to an hour, kunai only. In that time Shibi learned that Kushina preferred to lead with a stab in her rotation, which could be easily exploited. He could catch her kunai in the ring pommel of his own and force her stab to go wide, or he could side-step and get in position for a counter. He tended to favor slashes, which took a lot more windup and more space, so Kushina had several chances to counter when Shibi was the one on the offensive.  
  
“Hmm,” Orochimaru said and pinched his chin. “I might need to invest in getting the two of you blunted kunai for training. So that you can go partial contact during these training sessions.” He looked at them consideringly. “It’s good that the two of you stopped before you hurt each other, though. Training is concluded for now.”  
  
The students bowed. Kushina immediately bounded off in the direction of their audience -- Shizune, Tsunade’s student. The two girls had hit it off right away despite the age difference. In short order, they’d run off in the direction of the tent city. That left Shibi alone.  
  
“Shibi,” Orochimaru-sensei said as he approached his student. “There is going to be a lot of work in the village today with summons -- one group that the Oto ninja are summoning are ant summons.”  
  
Shibi tensed, his hair stood on end. His insects grew agitated at the mere mention of the ant summons.  
  
“I understand the Aburame have a bit of a history with the ninja ants, so it might be best if you stay on the ship or stay away from the construction site today.” Orochimaru patted Shibi on the head, perhaps to try and calm the boy down as his bugs were bracing for the possible ant attack. “I’ll make sure their summoner knows to keep them under control.” Orochimaru stopped for a moment, then looked aside with a bead of sweat on his brow. “That… reminds me, I need to warn Kushina and Shizune about the rabbits.”  
  
Shibi wandered to the north, after Orochimaru-sensei went off in pursuit of the girls. The mangrove forests of Wave were beautiful, even in the winter. The snowfall never got severe in Wave, as it did in Fire Country -- though there were blizzard concerns with the tent city.  
  
He walked through the forest, until he came to the opening of the sound where he found a clearing that had been made by a meteor possibly years ago. There was a crater with a semi-sphereical rock, dead trees, and relatively few signs of animal life. But the snow had fallen onto everything, and there were tracks of birds left behind. Clearly, it was old enough for them to not feel in danger.  
  
At the edge of the clearing, looking to the west, Shibi saw a short elderly woman dressed in the Kirigakure fashion of pinstriped wool arm and legwarmers with a kimono over the top. She had a scroll that hung from her back and a closed umbrella in her hand.  
  
“Konoha ninja,” she said without turning to face him. “Out on a walk?”  
  
“This is a beautiful country,” Shibi answered. He looked back to the forest. The cold had taken away the mists which had given the mangroves a haunting look when they first arrived. “In Konoha the pines are too tall for this kind of beauty.”  
  
“Good for you, child. Going out and seeing the world.” The woman expanded her umbrella and raised it to rest on her shoulder. “I hope you can see what once Water Country, and appreciate its beauty before it’s all swept away.”  
  
Snow began to fall, as Shibi walked up slightly behind the woman. “Swept away?”  
  
She didn’t answer right away, just spun her umbrella as the snow fell. “It wasn’t supposed to snow today.”  
  
Confused, Shibi arched a brow. “The weather can be tricky to predict.”  
  
“Hmm. So much for being coy.” She turned slightly to Shibi , her umbrella partially blocked his view. “Do you know what today is?” When Shibi didn’t answer, she continued. “Today is the marriage of two daimyo, and the first day of the existence of Soup Country. And snow is white.” She extended her hand and caught some of the snow in her palm. It was grey.  
  
“Oh,” Shibi said as he realized what that was. “Ashes.”  
  
The old woman nodded, and pointed across the sea. Shibi looked, and saw what had appeared to be a distant thundercloud -- but in reality it was smoke. A pillar of smoke so tall that it reached up to where they could see it all the way from Wave. Across the sea, Kirigakure was burning.  
  
“Ashes. Of a home that was awful at times, a prison sometimes, and a place I would never choose to live again,” said the old woman. “But home nonetheless. Appreciate your home, child. You may yet live to see it burn.”  
  
\--  
  
 _“Ash in the snow, falling so slow.  
Like many broken hearts, with no place to go.  
Frail soldier boy, taken from home.  
Forced to fight a war, which was not his own.  
Frail solder boy, cold and alone.  
Poor soldier boy, never made it home.”_  
  
\--  
  
Mercenary-nin Kanzaki  
  
There was a lot of tension in the capital of Swamp Country after an entire ninja clan -- hauling goodies and wealth that many noted had passed through the city under different owners before -- entered and asked to purchase a ship.  
  
That tension continued well onto the ship itself and out to sea. The Uemons were a strange people who had bizarre customs from Sayaka’s perspective, while her lack of any equivalents seemed to genuinely frighten them. The Uemon would pray silently before a meal, and one member of each family was asked to forgo the meal and strike chimes with small padded mallets. Near as she could tell, they believed that the gods could only hear their prayers if accompanied by music. The chime strikers would eat afterward, where the chimes were struck by another volunteer.  
  
The fact that Sayaka didn’t pray at all, with or without accompaniment, made them seem wary of her. Most of the time, Sayaka stayed in her cabin and practiced chakra control by walking along the ceiling on her toes. Literally, on her toes.  
  
Kimiko remained mostly in the same spot -- in the burnt orange wig which had been provided to Sayaka. It was actually quite warm, and matched her coat.  
  
It wasn’t until they passed through the islands of Water Country that Sayaka began to go out onto the deck. She watched as Fujioka Castle passed by on the coast of the big island, like a ghost of her past. More than one of the Uemon on the ship noticed her longing for the place, and Kokoro even came by to ask about it.  
  
“Me and my friends helped get that castle up and running. And it’s where I made a stupid mistake,” Sayaka answered, and indicated she didn’t want to talk anymore about it. She didn’t know if Noburu would forgive her for the part she played in him being made a missing-ninja. It didn’t matter much since Kiri was dissolved, but perhaps he held some grudge over it. And if Noburu didn’t, then Raiga-sensei likely did, since she’d undermined him in front of his subordinates.  
  
She imagined that they’d all spent their days talking about how much they were glad she was gone, until Kimiko bit her.  
  
“Don’t let your anxiety talk you out of going back to your friends,” the chameleon said and promptly bit her again. “Sorry. Humans are tasty.”  
  
Sayaka narrowed her eyes at Kimiko. “You’re going to just straight up eat people when you finish growing up, huh?”  
  
The chameleon’s eyes focused on Sayaka, and she bit her again.  
  
“Knock it off -- you can’t eat me, I’m your summoner.”  
  
“Right, right, sorry.”  
  
The confidence boost from the chameleon saw Sayaka through until the next sight on the big island before they crossed the Kaizoku. Kirigakure.  
  
There was a blockade of former rebel forces in the waters around Kiri. A picket ship approached their glorified cargo freighter and demanded to speak to them. Sayaka was hidden away in her room while that happened, but Kimiko and her looked through the porthole in their room. Ninja training let her hear what was being talked about.  
  
The formerly rebel forces were keeping any new ships from landing in Kiri to deliver food or evacuate residents. The window for them to leave had been closed, and they were doomed to be routed when the daimyo gave the order. Sayaka could only see people gathered at the Kiri docks, waving at the distant ships.  
  
Kimiko was quiet as she looked at them. She ignored Sayaka every time she asked what her better vision saw.  
  
“You don’t want to know,” Kimiko said, soft. “You don’t… want to know.”  
  
Sayaka pointed out the landmarks she could make out from so far away -- the Mizukage’s tower, the estates of the eyes caste nobles, the Academy, the home guard tower, and where she had lived prior to… everything. It was a somber experience, as with each landmark she recognized, she knew she’d never see it again.  
  
After the picket ship left, the cargo ship started out away from the main island toward Wave. The big island wasn’t even out of sight before a cloud of smoke started to rise up to the heavens. When Sayaka looked over the stern to see, there was a line of orange and red just at the horizon to indicate a fire.  
  
Kirigakure was burning.  
  
\--  
  
 _“Leaves on the vine, growing so slow.  
Like countless fallen souls, looking for a home.  
Clever soldier boy, thought he could soar.  
Foolish soldier boy, fallen in the war.  
  
My little soldier boy, I need you home.  
Brave soldier boy…”_  
  
\--  
  
Genin Fujimoto  
  
The summons continued to work while several people passed out masks to keep people and animals alike from inhaling ash. It had mixed in with the snow, and made a slush which had to be swept away or it would endanger their work.  
  
Since he was not part of the summoners or construction crew, Haruki stood on a high hill and watched the pillar of smoke that was Kirigakure across the ocean burn. That was it, then. His family was dead. Many families were dead, most likely. Kiri was dead too.  
  
He stood there, and watched, for a long time before he felt someone stand next to him. When he checked, there was Raiga-sensei. “Hey,” he told the boy with his hand on Haruki’s shoulder. “It’s okay to feel bad about this.”  
  
“I don’t feel bad,” Haruki said, confused even with himself. “I don’t… feel anything about this. I’m supposed to feel something, right?”  
  
Raiga examined his face, then squeezed his shoulder a bit. “That’s okay too. Maybe it hasn’t hit yet. Maybe it never will. Just… don’t let people tell you your reaction is invalid for you.” He looked at the pillar of smoke, then back to Haruki. “And there’s still a chance that Sayaka will show up. She might have had to convince her mother about it, though.”  
  
Haruki’s expression clearly conveyed his doubt. Sayaka hadn’t shown up since Oto was announced. She’d either committed to stay, or she’d gone mercenary.  
  
“...We’re planning on a memorial stone, for everyone who died in the war and… that we suspect might have been in Kiri. So that they’re not forgotten. Do you want me to add your family’s names?”  
  
Haruki shook his head, and looked up at his teacher again. “But… we should add Sayaka’s.”  
  
They stood like that for a while before a paper airplane soared at them and hit Haruki right in the nose.  
  
While Haruki rubbed his poor nose, the paper airplane poofed and revealed Noburu. “Oi,” he said with annoyance. “Clone messenger service. We got a ship approaching from the direction of Soup Country. Big ol’ cargo ship.”  
  
The clone promptly exploded, and left the two ninja to rush off toward the north. Raiga-sensei grabbed Junko and spread the word while Haruki focused on getting to the coast. He found Noburu and one of the Konoha genin on the shore, surrounded by rocks and trees with visible damage -- had they fought?  
  
He could tell both had their Byakugan active, and aimed at the ship. Haruki joined in, with his sensor abilities -- on the off-chance that their eyes couldn’t see far enough.  
  
There were many strong chakra signatures on the boat -- almost none of them familiar.  
  
Then he caught a flash of orange, and it startled him so much he snapped out of his sensor position. “Noburu -- “  
  
“I’m double-checking,” Noburu snapped, agitated. “I thought I saw her, but I won’t get excited until I can say one hundred percent.” The genin grinded his teeth. “Come on, just get a little closer….”  
  
“Haruki, what is he talking about?” Raiga-sensei said as other ninja started to join them on the coast.  
  
“Lots of chakra signatures on the boat,” the former noble said and pointed at it. “It’s got close to a hundred ninja on it. One of them felt almost exactly like -- “  
  
“Sayaka!” Noburu suddenly shouted. Without waiting, he bolted out onto the water, with such speed that the sea rose up in a spray behind him. “Sayaka!”  
  
Haruki put his boil release to work for physical labor for the first time, as he quickly steamed up and propelled himself off the shore to catch up to Noburu. “Sayaka!”  
  
She’d come! Raiga-sensei was right! He was also right behind them, just a tad slower on acceleration. The three men shouted as loud as they could for their teammate. Junko raced alongside them, just as enthusiastic despite the lack of familiarity.  
  
“Sayaka!” “Sayaka!” “Sayaka!”  
  
An orange figure appeared on the bow of the ship as they raced closer. Once they’d grown close enough to see and hear, it jumped off the side of the ship and landed on the water, then raced at them.  
  
She’d looked different from the last time he’d seen her. She had a lizard on her shoulder which wore a wig like a coat, she had a big scroll across her back, a few new scars on her face and arms.  
  
Haruki didn’t realize he’d been crying until he saw Sayaka was too. She was back, they were all together again! Kirigakure hadn’t killed her too!  
  
Sayaka spread her arms wide before they met, Haruki and Noburu both flying tackle hugged her while she locked her arms around them like a vice. While they hugged, Raiga-sensei grabbed all three of them and lifted them off the water. Their sensei spun them around once before Junko flying tackle hugged him, and lifted all four of them with frightening ease after she’d knocked them into the water first.  
  
None of them minded the cold -- they were together again. There was a wet lizard on Haruki’s face and he didn’t mind a bit, he hugged Sayaka tighter.  
  
They stayed that way until Junko had to move them or the ship would run them all over.  
  
\--  
  
 _“...comes marching home.”_  
  
\---  
  
So that’s that! Next time, we’ll be in three-years-from-now-ville!  
  
Have some credits music for the first part of Snapping Turtle! The lyrics for which I modified in this chapter!  
  
[A link!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Yhd19ByZDQ)


	31. Three Years Later

**Ch 31: Three Years Later**  
  
\---  
  
Mother Jiang  
  
She could hear her son singing along to one of the new tunes they had cooked up in the music hall while she sat on the couch and looked out on the reef. The Turtle House, as it had become known, was the top three floors of Tower Three -- towards the heart of the village. Most of it was to be used by Haruki and Noburu’s families when they grew up -- it encompassed twelve apartment units of which they only lived in three. Akami’s living room had the best view, in her opinion, it faced out into the sound and had a clear view of the deeper parts of the village and the reef sprawl. It also let her see Yuuko’s memorial stone, one of many on the opposite side of the sound.  
  
Carved into the cliffside opposite Oto were hundreds of stone cicadas, grown over with soft corals, which had the name of someone lost to Kirigakure’s dying war carved onto their backs. Akami had committed Yuuko’s memorial stone placement to memory. A sprawl of pink coral on the left wing, a sea anemone growing below the nameplate. Noburu told her it wasn’t the kind that would attract clownfish, but Akami had hope all that more sea life would come to decorate Yuuko’s stone. There weren’t a lot of water insects in the area -- so sea life was all they had to entertain her ghost.  
  
A reef shark swam past the three massive bubble-windows, each taller than Akami and twice her height across, in hot pursuit of a lanternfish. On a wide, low, shelf set were the Jiang family photos -- which obscured the reef shark’s hunt a bit. Akami let her eyes wander over the oldest ones, and linger on the newer ones. Noburu and his teammates flexing their muscles in front of the Oto ninja-gym -- with the girls beating out the boys with muscular displays. Three years had seen the boys grow their hair back mostly. Haruki still hadn’t fully grown in his mustache, but he had his silky black hair back, much to the boy’s delight. Noburu’s drab brown hair was kept back by his Otogakure forehead protector, pulled back over his head as Sayaka’s was.  
  
Sayaka and Junko had grown into fast friends, with their mutual love of training. At the time of the photo Junko had admitted she’d done too much and her prominent muscles messed her weight distribution up slightly. Akami hadn’t known that ninja needed to control how fast they grew strong and muscley. It certainly hadn’t been a problem for Raiga. Raiga was… if Akami were a much younger woman, she would enjoy his company more.  
  
Another new photo was of Akami and her adopted kids in front of the elevator to the Turtle House. At first, the boys and Sayaka had stayed with her -- but Sayaka moved to another apartment when she turned seventeen. It had been a fun couple years having a girl in the apartment.  
  
And the last new photo was relatively the oldest. Noburu as a blur of motion with a wooden spoon in hand, while Orochimaru’s teammates cowered in fear.  
  
The sudden acceleration of tempo from the music let her know that it was getting close to serving time -- so Akami rose from the couch. Noburu was hard at work in the kitchen, making use of his eyes and the ‘chakra strings’ Suzume had taught him to run four whole dishes all on his own.  
  
“They here yet?” The teenager called from the kitchen as he adjusted, stirred, and tossed the food with one hand and moved serving dishes onto the counters with the other.  
  
“Not yet,” Akami answered back as she approached the door. The polished stone floor made her steps echo, as it would for anyone in the hall.  
  
“Princess! You told them the time they were supposed to be here, right?!”  
  
“I told ‘em!” Haruki shouted from his room, down the hall past the dining room. “Not my fault if they can’t read a clock!”  
  
“Do you have your makeup done yet?!”  
  
“I’m working on it, shaddup!”  
  
Akami rolled her eyes and stepped out of the apartment into the hall. She didn’t want to get involved when Noburu duplicated himself to go mess with his adopted brother. The Turtle House’s interior walls were decorated with images of a city on the back of a turtle, then another for a tortoise, and a third for a sea-turtle. It was a recurring design element. The cities differed in designs at least -- the turtle’s city was covered in vegetation, with vines connecting the buildings together, the tortoise’s was made from sandstone and featured almost spherical buildings, while the sea-turtle’s city looked the most like Oto.  
  
Light-fixtures in the shape of mice holding candles that ended in bulbs lined the hallway walls down to the lobby where a trio of elevators stood side by side -- two for people, one for cargo. Each had stylized murals that depicted three goddesses that Noburu said had told her were named ‘Washu, Tsunami, and Tokimi’, apparently the names of three of Raiga’s ant-summons. Noburu had called it an ‘in-joke’, but Akami thought it merely flattering art of the summons.  
  
The arboreal-themed ‘Tsunami’ elevator dinged, and opened up. Akami’s face widened in a smile -- their guests had arrived!  
  
“Hello, lords and ladies,” she said as she bowed. “Welcome to the Turtle House!”  
  
First out of the elevator was Raiga -- with the new Otogakure flak jacket, black with clasps along the left side and a large pouch on the stomach, under his Seven Swordsman haori and the new Otogakure forehead protector under his long hair. Second was Suzume, dressed the same as Raiga but with a lab coat in place of the haori. Third was a foreign ninja, with a forehead protector of three diagonal lines and a jacket with a fur-lined hood and sleeves. At her side was an elderly woman who leaned on a walking stick, dressed as a noblewoman with absurdly long earrings.  
  
Last out of the elevator was her brother-in-law, Orochimaru, and a fig-hat-wearing gentleman -- one of Wave’s village chieftains. They were already in a friendly discussion, talking about their workloads.  
  
Six guests, Akami sighed at the thought. Three of which would not accept less than restaurant-quality food. It was a good thing Noburu had learned from her, then.  
  
The noblewoman squinted at Akami then looked up at her guard. “Is this a restaurant?”  
  
“No ma’am,” the guard responded. “It’s an apartment complex.”  
  
The noblewoman visibly reeled at the news. She pointed at Raiga with an accusatory finger. “You brought us to dinner at an apartment complex?”  
  
“I brought you to dinner,” the elite ninja said with a calming tone, “at the personal home of Otogakure’s top chef.”  
  
“Prepared by my son, my own live-in apprentice,” Akami cheerfully added. “Please, come this way.”  
  
The downside to having the best view out of the apartment complex was that, for political dinners like these, her apartment was the place to be. Hopefully, Noburu would be pleasant.  
  
\--  
  
Sotaicho Kurosuki  
  
Not for the first time, Raiga was glad that Orochimaru had a soft spot for Oto via Noburu. Konoha and Yu had not been the best neighbors to each other which would normally mean Oto couldn’t pursue friendly relations with Hot Water Country. But Orochimaru had stepped in to bring Konoha to the negotiating table which in turn lent them legitimacy to bring in Hot Water Country and Yugakure.  
  
If Hot Water and Yugakure could be brought to neutral terms with Fire and Konoha, Wave and Oto, then Lightning Country would have to put in greater effort to make Hot Water their ally. Getting Hot Water as an ally would be the best case scenario, but weakening Lightning by proxy just a bit more could potentially save them when war came.  
  
Raiga and Suzume followed Akami as she led the guests to her massive dining table, next to a window with a spectacular view of the reef.  
  
The Hot Water noblewoman looked over her shoulder through the window as a trio of lionfish swam by. “It’s so easy to forget how deep underwater we are here. And you say the village still isn’t done?”  
  
“We have more planned,” Raiga said with clear pride. “At least some of which will be a more scenic location in shallower waters for honored guests like yourself.”  
  
“Bah.” She shook her hand. “Seeing a shallow-water reef taken into the depths… that’s respectable.” The woman watched more fish pass by the window. “No matter how our talks go, I can tell the daimyo to respect what you’ve done here. Beautiful work.”  
  
Haruki and Noburu worked in only slightly tense synchronicity to serve the food for the meal and pour drinks. Meanwhile, Raiga heard a clone of Noburu’s in the kitchen at work on dirty dishes. The appetizers were laid on the table in front of their guests.  
  
“Oh man,” the village chieftain said as he put his hat aside and examined the dish. “Real lobster? For little old me? You shouldn’t have!”  
  
“Your appetizer,” Haruki announced with a bow. “Butternut squash and lobster risotto, a rice dish from the southern continent which uses their unique variety of rice, and cheese. Best eaten with the provided spoon. I will be back with the drink menu, one moment.” Pleasant as spring, Haruki bowed once again and walked off to the kitchen.  
  
“Oh, there’s bits of lobster in the rice, too!” The village chieftain had used his chopsticks to pull the risotto apart and looked inside. He gleefully set them down to grab the spoon and dug in. Raiga didn’t blame the man -- lobster was an expensive export item for Wave, the people who caught them rarely got to eat them.  
  
“One whole lobster goes into each serving,” Akami said with clear pride. “The butternut squash is native to Honey and Wolf Countries on the sub-continent.”  
  
The representatives from Hot Water Country knew this already, but they were guarded enough from the foreign dish to feign interest with the chieftain’s genuine excitement.  
  
“So you have… some dealings with Soup Country,” the Yugakure ninja started as she took a spoonful of risotto and blew on it to cool down. “That is interesting, given your history.” She seemed shocked by the flavor of the appetizer but didn’t seem upset by it. This convinced her charge to try it as well.  
  
“Fire Country’s markets are vast and well protected,” Orochimaru said, from Raiga’s left. “Soup Country doesn’t care where we sell what is purchased from them. Money talks, as it were.”  
  
Raiga mimed a bit of annoyance, to give their guests the impression that he rankled at Orochimaru’s truth. An act they had agreed upon before the guests had arrived. “Lord Orochimaru is correct,” he said with a faked smile. He ate some of his own risotto to make it clear none of it was poisoned. “Oto keeps their ports safe, and Konoha guards their markets. Trade with us has never been more secure.”  
  
The old noblewoman snorted. She clearly enjoyed the risotto -- but would never admit it. “We will see how long that remains so when war breaks out. Nadeshiko is in a better position than Oto to police the sea.”  
  
“What makes you say that?”  
  
She narrowed her eyes. “Soup Country is very wealthy. They can afford a lot of ships. Wave… not so much.”  
  
“Ships in the Kaizoku are never really safe,” Suzume added and adjusted her glasses. “The krakens see to that.”  
  
The main dish seemed to drive that home, when everyone had finished their risotto. Squid ink noodles with calamari. Their guests seemed to appreciate a dish they could eat with chopsticks.  
  
“Your son cooked all this?” The Wave village chieftain asked Akami with an arched brow behind his glasses. “Damn,” he said when she answered in the affirmative. “This stuff ain’t half bad for lookin’ all weird.”  
  
“It’s appearance is… bizarre,” the Hot Water noblewoman noted with a nod. “But the taste is impeccable. It drives home the sea’s bounty which Oto has access to. For such bounty, I could perhaps, convince the daimyo to… forgive, and forget.”  
  
“I’m sure my daimyo would be keen… not to repeat history again,” Orochimaru carefully responded, “once he partakes of Hot Water Country’s bountiful trade.”  
  
Eyes then drifted to the representative of Yugakure. She looked less than convinced, but glanced at the noblewoman and sighed. “Yugakure has always been a good and faithful servant of the daimyo. If he would be willing to forgive and forget… we would follow his example.”  
  
The noblewoman patted her on the hand.  
  
Raiga knew that he had just convinced someone to tell their daimyo to overlook genuine, legitimate grievances Yugakure had against Konoha. People who had been tortured and died would never receive justice because of his politicking. But for that price, he was willing to take having a less hostile neighbor.  
  
All the while, he knew that someday he would be asked to do as Yugakure’s leadership was -- forgive and forget legitimate grievance for another’s politics.  
  
\--  
  
Legendary Sannin Orochimaru  
  
After dinner, the representatives were guided back to the diplomatic suites in Tower One. Orochimaru, however, stayed behind to chat with family. With the strangers out of the room, he and Akami greeted each other more warmly than they had prior. A recent discovery Orochimaru had made about himself: He was a hugger.  
  
Akami squeezed him in a hug and patted him on the back. “Good to see you back, I was afraid they’d send that pervert again.”  
  
“Jiraiya wanted to come, but his team is entering the chunin exams -- they need extra training to get the best shot.” Orochimaru enjoyed the hug a moment longer then broke away. “I’m sorry for springing this on you -- Lady Yagi is a known seafood lover, I thought it would tip the scales.”  
  
Akami gave him an understanding look, but shook her head. “I wasn’t here, when your message arrived. I was at work at the restaurant.” She gestured to the kitchen. “Noburu’s the one who did all that.”  
  
He glanced over at the kitchen where Noburu and two clones were hard at work with the dishes. Oh. “I… thought you needed his help, with the complexity of the dishes.”  
  
Akami shook her head again. “He just got my okay to use the white wine, that was it. He and Haruki did the work to make this possible.”  
  
Orochimaru felt a sudden dread from that information and the fierceness with which Noburu cleaned the dishes. He glanced over to his nephew’s adopted brother, and was met with a dagger stare.  
  
Haruki kept it up until he turned around the island counter with the guest’s glasses in hand. “Wine glasses,” he said and held them out to one of Noburu’s clones.  
  
“Hmm,” Noburu’s clone said and took them to be cleaned. “Leftover calamari noodles over there,” he jerked his head toward the island counter.  
  
“Thanks.” Harkui left them to it and went to make himself a plate. Neither of them spoke to Orochimaru directly.  
  
The Sannin got the impression he’d made a mistake.  
  
Akami nudged him on the shoulder. “Go talk to him, find out what you should be sorry for, and apologize. I’m going to get out of my work clothes now.” The chef smiled at him, warm, then left down the hall to her room.  
  
Orochimaru swallowed and approached the kitchen slowly. “Um. Hello, Noburu.”  
  
“Hmm,” the boy’s nearest clone responded and placed a skillet on the rack to dry.  
  
“Thank you for… putting this together so soon. Squid ink noodles aren’t something I would have expected, given how… little time you had to work with.”  
  
“Hmm.” The clone narrowed his eyes at Orochimaru then set aside the serving tongs he’d cleaned. “Princess made it. Squid ink pasta and calamari are a Kiri classic -- he made it while I got the windows cleaned.” He used the spoon he had just cleaned to point to the bubble windows -- totally free of algae and polyps. “Because neither of us had things we had to do tonight.” The teenager slammed the spoon onto the drying wrack and began to furiously scrub the next dish. “We could just drop everything and whip you up restaurant-quality stuff. No big deal.”  
  
Orochimaru felt like perhaps leaving Tsunade behind in Wave was a poor decision in hindsight. Noburu had picked up her talents in passive aggressive behavior. He glanced over and saw Haruki, alone at the table, with a sour look on his face as he ate.  
  
“I… take it you missed something important.”  
  
“Ah no no no,” Noburu shook his head with a shrug. “In the grand scheme of things, probably not.” He pushed his clone aside so that he could start putting dry things away. “I mean, lesser scheme of things, it was something I’d been looking forward to. For.” He slammed a counter door closed so that it echoed. “Months. But hey.” Noburu looked at Orochimaru with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Fire Country and Wave probably won’t have to pay so much for potatoes, huh? That’s good, right?!” He made finger-guns at Orochimaru and turned away, his chipper expression melting into a sour mess as he went.  
  
Orochimaru realized how his nephew must feel at that moment. It must have felt just like when Orochimaru and Jiraiya had to shelve their plans because Sarutobi-sensei had volunteered them for a mission. Or when a project had to be put aside at the most interesting part when Sarutobi-sensei had assigned him a task to test him. Sarutobi-sensei’s apologies had always rung hollow, and Orochimaru thought his would do the same for Noburu and Haruki.  
  
He immediately began to put his mind to ways to show his sorryness without ringing hollow -- all of which demanded action. Compensation.  
  
“May I ask… what had you missed out on?”  
  
Noburu looked over to Haruki and waited for his adopted brother to nod before he answered. “We each had different things for today planned. Princess was going to see a matchmaker from Fire Country. Get his picture taken, fill out a profile, maybe get approached by a ninja clan who wants to marry into a kekkei genkai in exchange for moving out here. She only had one opening in her schedule for this year. First come, first serve and all that.”  
  
Orochimaru flinched. That was going to be a tricky fix. Tricky, but not impossible.  
  
“And I had a date planned. Had to postpone it because we both got missions at different ports -- and wanted to get everything ready to go as soon as we got back home. Now, after all this, I’ll be lucky if I don’t get the cold shoulder.” Noburu’s clones had finished and were dispelled.  
  
That… was somehow trickier for him to fix, though he admitted internally that the stakes were a lot lower. One missed date wasn’t all that important… except that it was to Noburu.  
  
“I’ll pull some strings back home -- get another matchmaker out here specifically for Haruki,” Orochimaru said and locked in in his memory as an outstanding commitment. “And… who is this girl you were supposed to see? I can speak to her sensei perhaps, or Oto’s mission office, and perhaps a short vacation can be arranged.” Orochimaru stopped when Noburu looked at him with confusion. “What? ...It wasn’t Kushina was it?”  
  
“Ew, no,” Noburu said and shuddered.  
  
“And it’s not Shizune, is it?”  
  
“She’s twelve! Ew! No!” Noburu shook his head.  
  
“I’m not one to tell the Sannin their business… but maybe you should ask Jiraiya?” Haruki shrugged, and continued to eat his noodles and calamari. “Didn’t he talk to you about the conversation he and Noburu had about this sort of stuff?”  
  
Orochimaru’s eyebrow rose enough to answer the question itself in the negative. “Did he do something I need to hit him for?”  
  
“Well, that’s a matter of perspective -- “  
  
“Yes,” Noburu answered with narrowed eyes. “But that’s something you and he can talk about. Right now, I’m going to go talk to my hopefully not-ex boyfriend and hope he forgives me.” With that said, Noburu removed his chef’s apron and set it on a hook next to Akami and Haruki’s then left the apartment without a backwards glance.  
  
With Noburu out of the way, Orochimaru locked eyes with Haruki and hoped he would explain.  
  
Haruki sank a little, his confidence lessened without his adopted brother in the room. “Um. Jiraiya gave him a bunch of Icha-Ichas for his birthday.”  
  
One thing worth hitting his teammate for was noted by the snake Sannin. “Alright. Was there anything else?”  
  
“He… may have… allegedly… tried to set Noburu up with a lady of the night to ‘fix’ him? And had to be told by the lady that she doesn’t do that sort of stuff?”  
  
A sudden spike of killing intent drove every fish that had gathered in the reef around the Turtle House swimming away in fear -- even the lionfish.  
  
\---  
  
Jiraiya, as a person who openly lusted after a woman’s form even though he knew the person was a twelve-year-old boy, is not good at accepting ‘not interested’ responses.  
  
Anyway…  
  
Oto Update:

  * Presently nineteen of the planned twenty-five towers are completed.
  * The dominant clans in the village are the Kaguya, Uemon, Hoshigaki, and Hozuki. Each have a tower set aside for their use.
  * Several minor clans have either migrated to Oto, or came with them from Kiri. 
    * These include the Waru, Yuki, Fujimoto, and Houseki. They are granted suites in several towers, but not whole towers in their own right.
  * The village is lead by the Sotaicho, equivalent to the rank of jounin-commander in Konoha.
  * The current Sotaicho is Raiga Kurosuki.
  * Otogakure is currently the largest city in Wave, as well as the most populated.
  * The kraken offshore from Wave’s sound is still lurking about.
  * Princess Tsunade has taken up semi-permanent residency, as the manager for the Spiteful Turtle casino.




	32. Prelude to War

**Ch 32: Prelude to War**  
  
\---  
  
Genin Kaguya  
  
Nuibari sang in high-pitched tones as Junko introduced her to Sayaka’s ninjato repeatedly. Nuibari had about a foot in length on Sayaka’s sword, so Junko could used the extra reach to keep Sayaka on the defensive. However Nuibari’s cutting power was negligible -- she was a stabbing sword. Sayaka’s ninjato could parry Junko’s slashes and overcome the reach imbalance for a few moments.  
  
But then Junko’s second sword came into play. Made from her humerus, the shortsword was ideal for slashes. However splitting her strength with a sword in each hand made it harder to guard when Junko was pushed onto the defense. Such was the case when Sayaka deflected Nuibari off the metal backing on her glove to get in close. Junko had to step backward rapidly and tried to get Nuibari in a position to stab.  
  
However, when the time came, Sayaka dodged to the side and stuck Junko right in the forehead protector with the hilt of her ninjato. It stunned her for a moment, but it was enough for Sayaka to get her leg hooked behind Junko’s knee and trip her. Junko fell backwards two feet and landed on the mat.  
  
“Ring out!” The referee shouted as she signaled for the fighters to part. All around them the audience clapped at the performance of the two. “Sayaka Kanzaki wins!”  
  
Their swordsmatch had taken place on a balancing beam on a mat, where Junko lay after her defeat. Around them, the gym returned to normal. Younger genin worked on their wall-walking or physical exercises, while the kenjutsu class returned to their classroom.  
  
Sayaka hopped off the balancing beam and offered Junko a hand up. Given she had a sword in each hand, Sayaka had to grab her by the wrist. “Thanks for the practice,” Sayaka said and sheathed her ninjato. “Though… the dual-wielding might not work too well with Nuibari.”  
  
“I just need more practice with it is all!” Junko defended herself, and let the legendary sword wrap herself in bandages and returned her to Junko’s hip. She pouted. “It’s not fair that I can’t hack off a man’s arm like the other swordsmen can.”  
  
Sayaka patted her on the shoulder. “But your sword is way better at penetration.” She tapped herself on the chest. “She fits right between the ribs, and can keep going. Punctures a lung, incapacitates the target, and then you can do your fly-zapper thing.”  
  
Junko nodded, then gestured with her humerus sword. “But with this… I can take off a man’s head, his arms, his legs… maybe all in two swings if I get really lucky.” Her pouting became even more pronounced. “I love using Nuibari, but she can only do really shallow cuts.”  
  
Sayaka nodded, and offered an understanding smile. “Maybe you could develop a jutsu to help with that? Something like using chakra to create a cutting edge?”  
  
“Ooh.” Junko’s pouting vanished as she imagined the possibilities. “I could make it like a saw blade, maybe! Lots of small hooks that cut as they’re dragged across the target.”  
  
“That’s the spirit!”  
  
They continued to talk shop about sword until Haruki arrived at the gym to join them in their kenjutsu practice with a guest to observe: Shibi Aburame. Shibi had adopted a long earth-tone coat with a high collar and fancy-looking sunglasses since his last visit to Oto. Haruki had bought into the latest Konoha fashion -- wearing mesh under his normal clothes. It was more obvious because his outfit was asymmetrical -- lacking one sleeve, and the opposite side pants leg stopping at his knee.  
  
“Hello,” Shibi greeted with a bow. He’d at least warmed up enough to move on from ‘greetings’, which made Junko happy. He waved back to her when she waved enthusiastically. “Orochimaru-sensei had to quickly return to Konoha to deliver the news about the warmed foreign relations with Hot Water, so he left our team behind in Lady Tsunade’s care.”  
  
“Oh cool! You get to spend time in the casino!” Junko gave Shibi a thumb’s up as she casually blocked Haruki’s sword attacks. Until he got in the zone, he was pretty predictable and his strikes were weaker than hers anyway. “You can be a hazard for the academy students practicing their transformation jutsus!”  
  
Shibi seemed oddly uncomfortable with that. “I… don’t think that’s a good way to teach your students how to properly use that jutsu.”  
  
“Well, we’re not at war -- we can’t have them sneak into the enemy camps like we used to.” Junko shrugged. “We make do with what we’ve got.”  
  
Shibi didn’t respond with words, but he started to sweat more visibly.  
  
Junko decided to move on. “So! How did the match-maker meeting go?”  
  
Haruki made a face and tried to feint with an overhead swing into a pommel strike. “It didn’t. Something came up.”  
  
Shibi flinched.  
  
Sayaka used a training sword to correct Haruki’s stance and raised her eyebrow. “Well, how did Noburu’s date go?”  
  
“It didn’t. Something came up.” Haruki, in a rare display, actually tried to overpower Junko’s block on his next attack. It shocked her enough to where it almost worked. He ended up knocked on his ass by her pushback.  
  
Shibi flinched again.  
  
Junko looked at Haruki, Shibi, and then Sayaka with a confused look. “But what could have come up that made the two of you miss those things? You were talking about that since before the mission to Panko Port.”  
  
Shibi flinched again. “Um.” His voice was soft, almost like he didn’t want to be heard. “Orochimaru-sensei made a sudden request during the talks….”  
  
\--  
  
Medical Director Ruan  
  
It was so… odd. A relic of a barbaric time turned to beneficial use. Suzume watched as Noburu and another medical ninja applied the bagua seal of the lake she had developed onto a man’s arm, while she traced a chakra path from the seal to the lumbar region of the spine. A second seal of the earth had already been placed on the man’s abdomen with a chakra path to the same spot.  
  
The man, a villager from Wave, watched them with visible fear in his eyes until the three of them backed off.  
  
Suzume formed hand signs and activated the two seals. They flared with red light for a moment before they followed the chakra path and dimmed. Once that was done, she brushed the man’s leg with her rubber-gloved hand.  
  
“...I can feel that! I can feel it!” The man’s fear melted as he rejoiced at the returned sensation. “I can wiggle my toes!”  
  
Suzume nodded. “It will be some time before you’re able to walk again -- we’ll send someone out to your home every day to conduct physical therapy. But with a few months of this, you will be able to walk again. It is my hope that you will reconsider our regeneration treatment to repair your spine -- but this workaround should suffice for now.”  
  
The patient didn’t seem to care, he was busy touching his legs and rejoiced at the sensation. Before they left, Suzume made sure to adjust the patient’s chart for the nurses. Once they were out, the three of them removed the medical goggles, gloves, masks, and scrub caps which they had covered themselves with. When the seals interacting could have had messy consequences, going in fully scrubbed up was necessary.  
  
“Kin,” Suzume started once they were away from the patient’s room. “That was very good application on the earth seal. Noburu, I noticed some shaking in your hand on the lake seal, but I’m glad you took the extra time to get it right.”  
  
Oto’s main hospital in Tower Four was still new -- they didn’t have a whole lot of operating theatres, they weren’t fully staffed, and while they had the space for a lot of patients they did not yet have the medical equipment. The materials to make advanced medical equipment predominately came from Hot Water, Frost, and Lightning countries. Up until recently, none of them had been interested in selling to companies hoping to fill Oto’s orders. But the parts of the hospital which were operational were brightly colored -- with cultural stories painted on the walls.  
  
“Thank you, Director,” Kin said and bowed her head. “My calligraphy courses paid off!”  
  
“Hmm.” Noburu responded, morose. “I hope next time is better.”  
  
Suzume didn’t let Noburu’s sullen attitude dim her cheer. The bagua seals she had developed as punitive measures had positive applications! “You just need more practice,” she told him. “You’ll get the hang of calm and precise strokes as time goes on.”  
  
“Hmm.”  
  
Suzume dismissed the junior medical ninja and retired to her office. Her shift was almost done, and she would be able to go to the casino to drink and chat with Tsunade. She seemed to be doing that more and more.  
  
Suzume’s office was covered in bubble windows -- and surrounded by elkhorn corals. It gave her the feeling of being in the middle of a forest -- except for the fish. The fish dispelled her forest-feelings. But thankfully, elkhorn coral was quite sharp and many bigger fish didn’t want to deal with it.  
  
She started to note down the results of the treatment as soon as she got to her desk. The lake seal’s control over the nervous system combined with the earth seal’s control of the muscular system together allowed them to bypass a severed spinal column -- though she hoped the patient would agree to regeneration later on.  
  
But she could understand why he wouldn’t want it. The idea of taking bijuu chakra and putting it into other people for medicinal purposes was a hard sell. Even Tsunade told her it was flat-out impossible to do ethically -- bijuu chakra was outside of the medic’s complete control and that posed an unacceptable level of risk to the patient.  
  
Maybe if they could isolate the bijuu chakra, and removed the remote control properties the bijuu had over it which caused the lack of total control. She jotted the idea down in her notepad next to the patient file.  
  
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a smooth voice spoke and drew Suzume’s attention. She looked over and saw a rat on his hind legs, dressed in a small version of an Oto flak jacket and forehead protector with a kunai pouch around his tail. One of the ninja rats she and Noburu had contracts with. The rat saluted her and stood straighter.  
  
“Keigo,” she greeted him with a smile and wave. “What’s the problem?”  
  
The rat broke his salute. “I come with a message from Noburu. He would like to know if he could skip his lunch break and leave an hour early?” The rat looked a bit awkward to have such a mundane message. “I get the feeling he and Ishidate didn’t… have fun last night?”  
  
“Ishidate?” Suzume had to struggle to remember who Keigo referred to -- then it clicked. The Uemon clan head’s oldest son -- she had done his checkup when he entered the ninja ranks as a genin. A brunette with a beauty mark and a pink-red wig, a ninja-artisan. Suzume suddenly slumped in her chair and rubbed her temples. “Oh right. They’re dating.” Or rather, the likely ‘were’ dating, since if they had a plan for the night prior -- then Orochimaru’s idea had squashed that flat. She sighed, and turned to the ninja rat. “Tell him to complete whatever he’s doing now and to just go home. I don’t need an emotional teen in the infectious disease lab releasing the airborne rabies virus.”  
  
If anyone ever asked her about that, she would tell them they had developed it purely for the vaccine research. It wasn’t even a viable bioweapon. Yet.  
  
Keigo nodded and scurried away.  
  
“Sheesh, no wonder he’s been such a drag all day,” Suzume muttered. “Being dumped sucks.” She looked up, intent on reminiscing about her days dating Isshin and all their ups and downs. However, she instead saw a grouper above her office through a window. A grouper had no business being so still or being so close to the sharp elkhorn coral.  
  
Worse still, the grouper seemed to notice how obviously Suzume noticed it and then promptly swam away. It moved with too much grace too close to the corals for Suzume to call anything but bullshit on the situation. She calmly reached under her desk and pressed a button which would ring a silent ‘intruder alarm’ in the office of the Sotaicho and other village leaders.  
  
\--  
  
Third Hokage  
  
Hiruzen had offered to take the village council out for lunch. A short window where the four of them could put aside their duties and be as friends again. All four of them were smiles and laughs when they returned to the Hokage tower. That saw them through a couple of drawn-out transcripts of courtly intrigue before they were growing grouchy again.  
  
“Hmmm the daimyo is miffed, it looks like.” Homura muttered and rubbed his forehead. He threw a sheet of paper onto the table between them and let them look at it. “He wants to sell the valleys south of River to the River daimyo to settle his debts and create a buffer zone. But your student’s mining operations in the area are listed as an S-class priority.”  
  
Hiruzen read the transcript and passed it off to Danzo. “This unique mineral Orochimaru has found is worth keeping the surrounding lands. We don’t know how deep it goes, yet.”  
  
“We should have gotten our hooks into Tanigakure first,” Danzo scolded him when he passed the transcript to Kotaru. “With them as Suna’s puppet, we have too little influence in the region to keep such a wide stretch of land secure.”  
  
“If they’re given this land, however, their wealth will increase exponentially from agriculture and access to the sea,” Kotaru responded after she’d looked over the transcript. “We could loosen Suna’s hooks by way of Tani’s sudden wealth combined with their pride. Perhaps they would trade hooks for a leash?”  
  
Homura was about to speak again when the whole of the Hokage Tower shook suddenly. A sudden terrible killing intent pierced through the building and made Hiruzen have to shake himself free of it.  
  
“Orochimaru?” He questioned as the killing intent seemed familiar?  
  
 **“Where is he?!”** Orochimaru’s voice pierced the air from far below in a roar. Hiruzen had never heard his student so enraged. He’d only ever heard _Tsunade_ reach that degree of anger.  
  
Everyone in the room turned to look at Danzo.  
  
“What?” He asked and spread his arms in an exaggerated shrug. “I didn’t do anything.”  
  
 **“Where is he?! Tell me where he is -- I’m going to kill him!”**  
  
All three of the other council member’s eyebrows rose at the same time. “Come now Danzo, we can help smooth this over -- if you’re honest about what happened,” Hiruzen said, understanding.  
  
“I haven’t done anything!” Danzo seemed genuinely annoyed, though it persuaded his peers not.  
  
A second wave of killing intent rolled through the room as the door opened. Orochimaru looked significantly out of sorts -- heavy sweating, frazzled hair, one of his legs appeared to drag behind him. Hiruzen stopped to consider the possibility that Orochimaru and his team had been ambushed on their way to Oto, then turned to glare at Danzo.  
  
“It wasn’t me!” He defended himself.  
  
“Where… is Jiraiya?” Orochimaru growled, his eyes locked on Hiruzen.  
  
“See? I didn’t do this!”  
  
Hiruzen waved Danzo off, and focused on his irate student. “What did Jiraiya do? I won’t tell you where he is until you tell me.” His stern mask melted as Orochimaru relayed the information he’d requested. The older man slumped in his chair and slid down as if to hide his shame by proxy. “I can’t believe he’d do that.” He dragged his hand down his face until it passed his eyes. “What am I saying -- of course I can.”  
  
Homura cleared his throat. “As… irritating as the possibility is, it’s impossible that Jiraiya has done as you say.” Hiruzen’s teammate adjusted his glasses. “Jiraiya hasn’t been sent to Oto since the last seal check-in a year ago.”  
  
Kotaru pinched her chin in consideration. “Hmm. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that Jiraiya went there on his own time. He’s been making greater use of his time off than he has in past years.”  
  
Danzo scoffed. “Even if it were true, there’s no reason to have returned to Konoha with such haste -- you’ve clearly pushed your body so hard that you’ll need to recover before you can be sent back to Oto to finish those talks with Hot Water.”  
  
Orochimaru’s enraged gaze snapped to Danzo and the Sannin suddenly advanced on him with his arms extended. It took Hiruzen and Homura to physically keep Orochimaru away from strangling Danzo -- the Sannin wouldn’t respond to orders.  
  
“Really, the most unbelievable thing about this whole situation,” Kotaru said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “is Jiraiya giving away a complete set of Icha-Icha. There are no Icha-Icha sets to give away -- and he certainly wouldn’t allow his publishers to package one when his new book will be available for purchase in summer.”  
  
The menfolk all stopped and looked at her in shock. Even enraged Orochimaru.  
  
“What?” She shrugged. “I’m in a book club. We read them on occasion.”  
  
“So the question then becomes,” Danzo said as he stroked his scarred chin, “which of our enemies have disguises which can fool a Byakugan? And what have they smuggled into Oto in the disguise of Jiraiya’s novels?”  
  
That had been a tangled mess to deal with. The Hyuga had done a test and couldn’t find substantial relations with Orochimaru or Noburu. They were obviously related somehow -- but the two families had branched so long ago that the Byakugan was all they shared. However, the Hyuga were hopefully not involved in the current mess.  
  
Hiruzen didn’t like the short list of answers to either of Danzo’s questions which he immediately came up with. He locked eyes with his student -- who appeared to finally emerge from the state of blind rage he’d been in. “Orochimaru -- get to a medic to make sure you’re good to go, then get back to Oto. Someone’s going to start something there -- and for once, it might not be Danzo’s doing.”  
  
Danzo made a displeased grunt, but didn’t refute the point.  
  
\---  
  
You have no idea how hard I had to fight myself not to have Noburu teach Junko the fcking Chidori over the timeskip. If it happens, it'll be referenced on-screen, damnit!


	33. Inciting Incident

**Ch 33: Inciting Incident**  
  
\---  
  
Arun Otsutsuki  
  
In the dark of the depths, uninvited guests walked the incomplete halls of Otogakure and mapped out everything they could. Two groups allied together, for mutual benefit. Four ninja, and two seemingly harmless ‘monks’ from the ‘Moon Temple’. Arun, the more senior of the two Moon folk, calmly sat in meditation as he used ninshu to sense his surroundings without the need of his eyes. Sometimes he would stroke his mustache to keep the ambient static electricity from puffing it up. His subordinate was much more exuberant. Tenmu, a boy on the precipice of being a man, was quite different than Arun. Where Arun was quiet and patient, Tenmu was loud and eager. Their appearances even differed -- Arun was tanned from his time in the fields, and had dark hair with a pronounced mustache; Tenmu was pale and had ghostly white hair, while being clean-shaven. Both were dressed as the Otsutsuki clan demanded -- black trousers and pants under a layer of white with a wide green sash around their bodies that tied at the shoulder.  
  
Their ninja allies had disguised themselves to fool the Otogakure residents. Each had hidden their gear and weapons so that there was less of a possibility of being caught. Their mastery of disguise was impressive -- he never would take them for ninja of Kumogakure if he hadn’t known prior.  
  
Arun and Tenmu sat in the hideout with the leader of the Kumo ninja -- L. He went by ‘Ling’ to the locals, and posed as a merchant who sold metal ingots to the smiths. A weasley-looking man with oiled hair and a grin too large to be comfortable. He wore a katana’s tsuba over his right eye as an eyepatch, and wore a kimono that had visible patches and repairs done. It was all to sell his disguise. Without any marks to fool, he wore a more serious expression and wrote down information to be sent off to Kumo.  
  
Tenmu had been occupying himself by rolling glass balls in such a way to strike other balls and cause them to leave a ring he had carved in the stone. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up, his eyebrows raised. “Someone is coming,” he whispered.  
  
The older men tensed, and positioned themselves to slip away into the shadows.  
  
Guiying Tang, the transformation specialist of the mission, returned from her information gathering run hours ahead of schedule. She’d come into the hideout gasping for air as if she’d run from the airlock straight there. “I was spotted,” she said as she fell to her knees for want of air.  
  
Arun used fine chakra threads to grab the kunoichi’s clothes and a towel -- he laid the former next to her and placed the latter around her shoulders without ever needing to move.  
  
“The medical director saw me,” Guiying said and quickly dried herself off. “There’s no way she hasn’t tripped the silent alarms.” The transformation specialist dressed as soon as she was dry -- Arun smacked Tenmu for using his senses to oogle the woman’s form and her many intricate tattoos.  
  
What was with the clan’s youths and perversion? It seemed all the young folk were unable to control their urges anymore.  
  
L sighed and looked at Arun. “They’re going to scramble, and send rats and ants into every nook and cranny. Think we can lay low long enough to wait it out?”  
  
Arun stroked his mustache and spread his senses far and wide. A subtle note of alarm spread through the people in the surrounding towers -- and he could feel more and more tiny notes of summons scurrying through the tiny spaces. It would not be long before they were found, if they did nothing. “No. The time is now.” Arun met L’s gaze with his permanently closed eyes. “Tell your agents to grab your prize. Tenmu and I will secure ours.”  
  
L nodded, his eyes narrowed. “I graciously offer to help you secure your jinchuuriki.” He looked over at Guiying. “Guiying -- go help Honda and Ryou.”  
  
The kunoichi nodded, and vanished via the shunshin jutsu.  
  
Arun frowned at the man. “We agreed -- the nine-tails jinchuuriki for you, and the three-tails for us.”  
  
“And we’ll honor that agreement. But we also agreed you would allow us to get a Byakugan of our own.” L frowned. “So I help you grab him -- we stop at Kumo to secure our Byakugan -- we take the heat and leave your names out of it. Everyone assumes this is a Kumo op, and no one goes looking for you.”  
  
Arun held out his hand to stop Tenmu from foolishly breaking their agreements. “Fine. But we will not allow you to transplant his eyes.” Kumo could believe all they wished that the ‘monks’ of the Moon wanted a set of Byakugan for their own purposes. Arun would see the last eyes of the main family locked away in the Tenseigan, and be content.  
  
L nodded in agreement, and the three vanished.  
  
\--  
  
Ninja Rat Keigo  
  
Keigo brushed his whiskers as he checked over the boss’ apartment for the fifth time. The boss had fashioned a labyrinth of tiny tunnels and doors for ants, rats, and mice to all use to get around without having to ask for help. Noburu had said that having to ask others for help for every single task could lead to resentment, so he had placed furniture and irregularities in the walls to let them navigate from the floor-level passages to the roof-level beams from which lights hung.  
  
Keigo was one of Noburu’s two personal summons -- the other being the much smaller ninja mouse Akimitsu, a white mouse with bright red eyes and the Oto note on the back of a vest. While Keigo was a great administrator and infiltration specialist, Akimitsu was skilled at assassination and sabotage. More than one pirate crew had met their end after being softened up by their antics.  
  
With the intruder alarms tripped, the two of them should have been getting Noburu informed and ready to report for orders -- his Byakugan would be vital. However, the boss was not cooperative.  
  
“Boss!” Akimitsu squeaked as he followed after Noburu while the teen went back to the kitchen. “Come on!” The ninja mouse dragged Noburu’s trousers behind him -- in an effort to get the young man to dress and get ready for deployment. “There’s an intruder!”  
  
“I’m not really feeling up to it, Aki.” Noburu pulled open the fridge and grabbed an entire bunch of bananas. “Teenage hormones tell me ‘you got dumped, you’ll never be happy again, start stress eating so you won’t starve to death’. And because some people refuse to let me jailbreak my brain to stop shit like that happening -- I have to let these hormones process until I can think clear-headed again.”  
  
“But boss!” The mouse pleaded and climbed up to the counter to try and stop the eventual peanut butter and banana smoothie to be produced. “The intruder! People could get hurt!”  
  
“Fine,” the teen sighed. “If I send out shadow clones to help, will that satisfy you -- nagging mouse?”  
  
“Yes, please!”  
  
Keigo was so very proud of his teammate -- who had found a way to use his baby-of-the-family whining to solve the problem.  
  
Noburu promptly made a shadow clone, then glanced. He dispelled the clone, put on the trousers Akimitsu had dragged in with him, and made a new clone. Satisfied that the new clones would be fully dressed, he made two more. “Alright guys -- go use your Byakugan to help the search for the blah blah blah, I don’t care anymore. I want my smoothie.” Noburu’s willpower visibly wilted until he had to lay his head on the counter while he made the smoothie.  
  
The clones, irritated and bitter, grumbled amongst themselves as they left the apartment. Once they were gone, Noburu paused in his smoothie making to toss the trousers again. This time he threw them where Akimitsu couldn’t easily fetch them again.  
  
Keigo threw a thumb’s-up at Akimitsu from his spot on the beams, and started off on his sixth sweep when the mouse threw one his way. He scurried along the beams just below the roof and passed through to the bathroom for his sixth sweep. Things were good until he passed through Noburu’s room just as the boss’ closet emitted light from within. His fur puffed up when he saw the door slide open and an unknown head stepped out.  
  
Keigo did as he was trained to do. He back out of the boss’ room, reached into his pouch, and produced a whistle. Seconds later and ear-piercing shriek filled the air which would let the boss and Akimitsu -- as well as any nearby rats -- know he’d found the intruder. A moment later, when a hand grabbed him, he knew that the intruder had found him too. Before he could be captured, he dispelled the summoning and hoped the boss and Akimitsu could handle it.  
  
\--  
  
Sotaicho Kurosuki  
  
Raiga had been in the midst of organizing the search for the intruder in the subterranean section of the village when the alarms sounded. First, a messenger mouse had come to the operations room in Tower One to inform him that the intruder-sighted alarm had been raised in Tower Three. Moments later there had been an alarm from the diplomat suite that Kushina Uzumaki had gone missing.  
  
The timing was too convenient. Raiga instructed the search parties to instead focus on the missing Kushina, and decided to go after the intruder in Tower Three directly. Most of his team was in the gym, so they linked up on the way.  
  
Imagine his surprise when he found the apartment Noburu, Akami, and Haruki shared in the Turtle House to be a mess. There were signs of a struggle -- one of the window frames was leaking, which had to be fixed right away. The only evidence they could find that Noburu had been there was a pair of trousers thrown onto a standing lamp. The same pair that Noburu’s clones had been seen wearing as they helped the search.  
  
Which naturally meant that in one swoop, two jinchuuriki had been stolen from Oto in one night. An event which had to be dealt with -- before it became public knowledge.  
  
Raiga made the decision to go to the one person who could probably figure out where they had gone because of jinchuuriki magic or some nonsense -- Kousuke. He and his team went to the elevators to the surface with that goal in mind -- though they passed by someone who clearly wanted their attention.  
  
Ishidate Uemon -- a sixteen-year-old chunin of Oto, and up until recently Noburu’s romantic interest.  
  
“Have you anything to report?” Raiga asked as he and his team walked.  
  
“No, sir,” the wig-wearing chunin said as he walked behind them.  
  
“Then why are you here? I don’t remember assigning you to guard the elevators today.”  
  
“I want to help the search and retrieval effort.”  
  
Raiga stopped and looked at the chunin with narrowed eyes. He _knew_ he hadn’t told anyone outside his team that there was need for a search and retrieval effort. “What makes you think there is one?”  
  
“Noburu told me.” Ishidate struggled to meet the Sotaicho’s sharp gaze, or the narrowed look Haruki gave him. “I… was talking with his clones, when it said that Noburu needed help. Then they all dispelled to give Noburu back his chakra. He was doing that ‘glowy eyes of serious business’ thing.” The teenager stuck his lower jaw out to mime the three-tails, known to speak through Noburu’s clones.  
  
“Why would you want to help?” Haruki snarled with his arms crossed. “You threw every mean word you could at him when the two of you talked.”  
  
Raiga, having recently been a teenager, knew immediately what the situation was even as Ishidate explained it. The two of them had been looking forward to that one night for months -- it was likely never going to live up to their thoughts for it. But then it got yanked away, and the teenagers had gotten angry about it.  
  
Haruki didn’t look convinced, but Raiga nodded. “Knowing him the way I do -- he’s going to be absolutely irate to have been kidnapped again.” Raiga rolled his eyes. “With how often it happens with pirates, you’d think he’d be used to it.”  
  
“He’s probably mad because Haruki didn’t get caught too,” Junko added and giggled. “Now he can’t blame Princess on them getting caught.”  
  
Haruki pointed his finger at her, a warning, then lowered it slowly. “You’re right. This time he has no one to blame but himself. Ha!” The ninjutsu specialist grinned evilly. “I’m going to get so much mileage out of this.”  
  
“The point being,” Raiga said and cuffed Haruki to get his attention. “Is that having you there might calm him down so that he doesn’t cannibalize everyone before we can question them.”  
  
“Again,” Sayaka added, annoyed.  
  
“Again,” Raiga readily agreed.  
  
“Look -- sometimes you just have to feel the flesh and bone breaking between your teeth,” Junko valiantly defended her teammate’s honor. “Feel the blood dribble down your chin and get under your nails -- embrace their soul as it melts in your stomach, relish in their teammate’s dismay. It’s _natural_.”  
  
“For Kaguyas,” Sayaka added, annoyed.  
  
“For Kaguyas,” Junko readily agreed.  
  
Raiga snapped to get their attention again, and pointed at Ishidate. “Alright, follow us -- don’t disperse any poison you don’t know one-hundred-percent we’re immunized against, and don’t petrify anyone to completion.” The Sotaicho started the march to the elevators back up.  
  
“I won’t let you down, sir,” Ishidate said, and bowed. The bowing customs of the sub-continent were strange. They didn’t just bend the torso, they lowered themselves by bending their knees, brought one leg back, and inclined their head while they spread their arms. It was like an invitation to decapitate them. Sometimes they’d even flick their hands in circles while they bowed. Bizarre, but nonetheless a bow. “Should… we bring Kushina’s teammates, so they can keep her calm too?”  
  
Raiga suddenly stopped walking and turned to look at Ishidate. “I forgot that the Aburame can track people with their bugs -- and it’s likely Shibi has one on Kushina.”  
  
“...So we should double back and get them, then pretend as if that was our plan from the beginning?” Sayaka said, and played it cool as if she had not forgotten as well.  
  
“Yes. Exactly that.”  
  
\--  
  
Genin Uzumaki  
  
One moment, Kushina had been hanging out with Shizune and talking shop about beauty products while they were buried in hot sand as part of a spa day. The next moment, Kushina woke up distinctly not covered in hot sand, but instead tied up and slung over the shoulder of someone she didn’t recognize. There was a gag in her mouth, and a mesh bag over her head.  
  
She decided in that moment that violence was the only solution and that she was going to savage each and every one of them with a shoe horn. She didn’t know what a shoe horn was -- but she’d heard Noburu threaten people with it, and it seemed intimidating. Maybe it was another word for spur? Instead of a rotating wheel on the heel, it was just a spike? She’d find out when she was free when she had to visit such a shoe-horned fate upon her kidnappers. Her hands were restricted, and she felt something burn around her stomach -- like her seal was disrupted. She attempted to call on the nine-tails’ chakra, but found that it wouldn’t come. Then she tried to wriggle her way out, and found that her hands and legs were bound -- and her chakra control was suddenly too poor to use the rope escape technique.  
  
The mesh bag didn’t totally restrict her vision -- it kept her from seeing fine details, or knowing exactly where they were. What she could unfortunately make out was that she wasn’t alone in being kidnapped. There was someone slung over the shoulder of the person who shunshined behind Kushina’s captor, in a similar state to Kushina.  
  
Except they had no trousers. Either they’d been taken while sleeping, or getting dressed -- Kushina didn’t want to think of other situations which could lead to people in the ‘shirt and underpants’ fashion style. She could, however, see lots of patches of white on the person carrying the other captive. Bandages, most likely, and at least one mass of gauze tied to their arm.  
  
As Kushina watched, she watched the captive behind her flex their foot, and then suddenly she went flying. There was a crack of wood on metal, and Kushina landed in the boughs of a tree.  
  
“Sonuva -- !” Someone, presumably her captor, shouted as she rubbed her nose. Kushina couldn’t make out much about her except for the familiar flak jacket of Kumo, and a large amount of tattoos on her limbs. Her captor swiped her arm at the one who held the other captive. “I thought you had his chakra control disrupted!”  
  
“I thought so too!” The captor for the male captive said, dismayed. “But he just keeps making chakra strings!”  
  
“Well then drug him, or something! That’s the third time he’s made me fall because of those things!” Gloved hands grabbed Kushina and hauled her onto the kunoichi’s shoulder. “And now this one’s awake too. We gotta keep up the pace, or they’ll catch us!”  
  
“We cannot afford delays like this,” another voice, which Kushina couldn’t see, spoke up. “Dose the jinchuuriki with more of the opium, that will render him too insensate to slow us down.”  
  
Kushina, a trained kunoichi, realized she was in danger and had to think of a way to save herself because there was the chance that rescue would not arrive in time. But she also realized from the use of words like ‘jinchuuriki’ and ‘his’ exactly who was on the shoulder of the other Kumo ninja. She wanted to wash her eyes out -- but that could wait until later.  
  
She closed her eyes as another Kumo ninja stabbed Noburu in the leg with a needle -- presumably the opium -- and tried to be a good little prisoner. Noburu had bought them time, and given her more information, but if both of them were dosed up on opium then they were SOL. She had to keep her thoughts clear, they were the only tool she had at the moment.  
Kushina hoped that, whatever disrupted their ability to draw on their bijuu’s powers, it didn’t interfere with the bijuu’s ability to look through their eyes and speak to one another. Perhaps Kousuke would appear and save the day.  
  
Or maybe Orochimaru-sensei. That would be nice.  
  
\---  
  
Dudes… have you ever gotten so mad that you allow a spirit turtle to partially possess you and straight up eat a crew of pirates? Asking for a friend.


	34. With Great and Terrible Anger

**Ch 34: With Great and Terrible Anger**  
  
\---  
  
Genin Aburame  
  
Orochimaru-sensei would never forgive him if he stopped. His legs ached, he couldn’t feel his feet anymore from constant leaps and landings. Orochimaru-sensei would never forgive him if he stopped. Sweat kept getting in his eyes, but he couldn’t blink enough to get it out. Orochimaru-sensei would never forgive him if he stopped. The others hadn’t seen any sign of the kidnappers, or their friends. Orochimaru-sensei would never forgive him if he stopped. The trees of Fire Country had started to blur together, and he could no longer hear the birds which normally sang as they failed to notice ninja.  
  
He followed the trail left by the kikaichu bugs on Kushina, and he had to be the fastest person on the retrieval team since everyone followed him. He _had_ to be. The alternative was unacceptable.  
  
Orochimaru-sensei would _never_ forgive him if he stopped.  
  
That thought drove him forward even as his limbs screamed at him to stop.  
  
“Hey!” It was the Kaguya girl, Junko. The one Kushina kept training to surpass. Dressed in a hooded long-sleeved white shirt with gill-like slits in the shoulders and baggy pants with two long pockets which when from below her knee to just above her ankles. Shibi idly noticed that she had red eyeliner on. It looked rather nice, with her pale hair. She had run up alongside him and waved when he looked at her. “You look like you’re going to pass out, fall between the trees, and die on landing!”  
  
While Shibi certainly felt that way too, it seemed mildly threatening when it came from the observations of another. “...What?” He noticed the others, past Junko, refused to meet his gaze.  
  
“And your hearing’s going too, oooh.” Junko ran backward through the trees and kept pace with Shibi regardless. “Also you’re kinda slow… you were okay for a while, but you just don’t got the endurance for this. So, here’s what everyone else has agreed. We piggy-back you until we find our friends -- and then we all teach you how to run.” She grinned. “Specifically me. I teach you how to run.” She grinned wider. “My clan has a game to teach people how to run -- ‘escape the starving dogs’. You’ll love it.”  
  
Shibi had never doubted anything more than he doubted that sentence. He could be told the moon was hollow, and he’d believe it before he believed Junko’s words at that moment.  
  
“Up first, Ishidate!” Junko jumped and spread herself in an X shape to slow herself and join her team.  
  
Another Oto ninja -- one of the wigged Uemons with the Oto note on the attached metal plate and an Oto flak jacket under his haori -- ran up alongside shibi and leaned his torso further forward than was necessary. The invitation was clear.  
  
If Orochimaru-sensei wouldn’t forgive him if he stopped, he might forgive leaning on another to keep going. Shibi jumped forward and let momentum carry him onto Ishidate’s back. For someone so slight, he handled Shibi’s weight well. He hadn’t realized how overexerted he was until he’d taken the weight off his legs. Shibi kicked himself for learning administrative skills instead of practicing taijutsu more often.  
  
“Just tell me when I need to adjust course,” Ishidate said, confident. Moments later his speed almost doubled, and the others in the search and retrieval team followed suit. It was clear how much Shibi had been holding them back. “To be honest, I thought you were doing fine, but you didn’t know how to pace yourself well. You’ll still need to escape the starving dogs, but you won’t struggle as much as Junko thinks.”  
  
Shibi sighed. “Your confidence in me is appreciated,” he muttered. He looked up, and had his kikaichu check the scent again. “Two degrees north-north-east from this point, we are steadily catching up to them.”  
  
“Good. Because I want to turn at least one of them half to stone as an apology to Noburu.” Shibi noticed a bit of gold behind them and glanced back. One of Ishidate’s hands had a golden eye, half-closed, strapped to the back of his hand. An artisanal ninja tool, the evil eye.  
  
“...I knew I recognized you from somewhere,” Shibi muttered with narrowed eyes behind his glasses when he turned back. “You’re the one who shouted at Noburu in the plaza.”  
  
Ishidate flinched. “Yeah. I… regret that, now.”  
  
Shibi wanted to tell the Oto nin he should have regretted it when he said them. He wanted to tell him he had no business on a retrieval team after the things he’d said. “You seemed angry,” was all he said about it. Purposefully absent emotion, no blame. Just the facts -- weapon enough for Shibi. “That anger seemed to get away from you, quickly.”  
  
“And if we don’t get Noburu back… and your teammate,” he added the second part as if it was an afterthought, “then I can’t tell him I’m sorry, and that I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on him.”  
  
They didn’t catch up to them before they had to stop for a short break. Shibi had been passed between Ishidate, Sayaka, and Hizashi by the time the order to halt was called. The sun had begun to set, and cast ominous shadows through the Fire Country pines. They were still close enough to the sea that Shibi could hear the waves strike the steep cliffs.  
  
The Oto leader, Raiga, erected a stand and filled it with water into which Haruki began to unload ingredients. “Haruki is preparing a recipe using Akamichi food made by Akami,” the older man explained as he used his lightning to boil the water for the soup. “Its effects are comparable to a soldier pill, but the liquid medium allows for it to be absorbed by the body with fewer side effects.”  
  
Haruki quickly tapped a shaker into the soup when Raiga had his eyes elsewhere. “And some MSG for flavor.”  
  
Raiga gave him a _look_ and focused on the task. “Everyone takes some, the leftovers are put into a thermos -- we keep going. Nobody uses any soldier pills until we’re about to engage. If we have to, we can cross into Hot Water Country briefly.”  
  
“Didn’t the talks with Hot Water come out amicably? Their representative agreed to your terms,” Hizashi asked with his arms crossed. The Hyuga had adopted a somewhat more traditional look, compared to the others. He wore a grey-green kosode -- one sleeve patterned with the images of cages, and the other with flying birds, and baggy pants with his usual double-kunai pouch. Two steel war fans -- tessen -- were affixed to his wrists with special holsters that would allow Hizashi to draw them when he crossed his arms.  
  
“They haven’t had a chance to communicate that back to their daimyo and Yugakure. As far as they know -- we’d be invading.” Raiga frowned, and looked at them. “The speed boost this soup gives will hopefully get us on top of them before they cross too deeply into Hot Water for us to follow.”  
  
“And if it doesn’t?” It took Shibi a moment to realize he’d been the one to ask the question. He was usually more reserved with obvious questions.  
  
“...Then we go to Kumo, and we steal them back. Perhaps we fight a war for them.” Raiga’s lighting intensified, and the soup boiled even more vigorously. “Be sure to cool it when you drink. It will be ready in a minute or two.”  
  
\--  
  
Legendary Sannin Tsunade  
  
Tsunade felt that, perhaps, she should drink ever so slightly less. That way she wouldn’t need people to tell her what happened while she was black-out drunk. Such as an intruder alarm in Oto. Or how two jinchuuriki had been kidnapped right from under them. Or how Orochimaru had gone from Oto to Konoha and back in two days with an excessive number of soldier pills and blind rage to fuel him.  
  
She liked that he’d finally let his temper slip the leash a little. Being passive aggressive all the time wasn’t healthy. However, she disliked the state she found him when he’d returned to Oto. Dehydrated, low blood sugar, chakra depleted. The first two she could fix with help from Suzume and Shizune. The third was tricky.  
  
Orochimaru wouldn’t forgive her if she asked him to stay in bed to recover naturally. So she had to transfer her chakra to him while Suzume and Shizune tended to the other issues. She’d taken him to the hospital, to a private and secure room. It wasn’t plain like the hospital rooms in Konoha -- it was decorated in the story of a fish with jeweled scales set in some distant reef. The story unfolded from the immediate right of the door, along the wall, and concluded on the left wall near the door frame.  
  
There was silence in the room, while the medical ninja did their best to make Orochimaru well. He was shaking, convulsions from low blood sugar Tsunade expected. Food would fix that -- which motivated her to swat Orochimaru every time he resisted Shizune feeding him. An orb filled with glowing liquid passed close enough by the room to light it up as if it were midday on the surface.  
  
“I was going to kill him,” Orochimaru admitted as if shocked with himself.  
  
“Who? Jiraiya?” Tsunade scoffed. “I gave him a good punch in the jaw when I heard about it -- he seemed confused. Probably did it while he was drunk.” She made sure her chakra was delivered in small enough bursts that Orochimaru’s system wouldn’t see it as an invader.  
  
“Tsunade. He didn’t do it, it was an imposter.” Orochimaru pushed aside Shizune’s next bit of food to look her in the eyes. She hadn’t ever seen him afraid before -- it shook her. “But before I knew that, I was going to _kill him_.”  
  
Oh. He’d been serious. That stunned Tsunade for a few seconds before Suzume nudged her and knocked her out of it. Immediately she scowled at him. “Jiraiya’s your best friend. One incident like this is a reason to beat him up, not to… do that. What the hell were you thinking?”  
  
Orochimaru averted his gaze. “I wasn’t. I was just… so angry. It was like there was no room left in my head for me -- only the anger.” He looked down at his hands, while they shook. Perhaps it hadn’t been because of blood sugar levels, after all. “Three years ago, Noburu told me something about myself that he’d seen in the future.”  
  
Tsunade blinked, then glanced at Suzume before she commented. “Those riches you found in the valleys south of River, yeah?” Even if Oto were allies with Konoha -- they weren’t Konoha. What information passed outside the village had to be closely monitored, even to their allies.  
  
“No. He told me that… I developed rampancy. A stress disorder which causes the brain to start thinking itself to death.” Orochimaru didn’t let the fear show in his voice or eyes anymore. But Tsunade knew how to see underneath the underneath where her teammates were involved. “He told me some of the things I did… will do while rampant. Terrible experiments, that twist me into a monster. Lives I throw away like trash, because they’re not useful anymore.” His fingers twitched even more pronounced. “The people I’d once cared about, and then brag about killing. To you.”  
  
Suzume, when Tsunade glanced at her again, was the picture of professional medical ninja etiquette. Even if Tsunade wouldn’t enforce her silence, it was possible Suzume would keep the secret of what she’d heard. But not guaranteed.  
  
“By the timeline he laid out… it would happen around now.” His hands had begun to shake badly, so Shizune had to start to feed him again. “I thought… that having a team, and spending more time away from Konoha would be enough to stop it, but what if….”  
  
“Stop that,” Tsunade snapped. She focused her eyes on Orochimaru’s and tried to drill her words into him with a terrible glare. “Stress disorders get worse the more you think about them. Have you been thinking about this in the background, these last three years?” When Orochimaru broke her staring contest, she got her answer. “You’ve been making it worse for years, doing that.” She rolled her eyes. “When this is over -- Jiraiya and I are going to teach you how to de-stress with a proper vacation.”  
  
But it wasn’t over yet. She still had to get Orochimaru enough chakra to fight with, and that would take time. Time they didn’t have.  
  
As if the universe wanted to backhand her, Tsunade heard something which caused her back to stiffen. A rhythmic chime, which grew closer with each instance. It brought to mind the humilitating defeat she and her teammates had suffered three years prior, and the unflappable monk responsible.  
  
Moments later, there was a knock on the door. Suzume looked at Tsunade, then made a quick adjustment to the IV bag she’d set up to drip liquids into Orochimaru. The hospital director opened the door and there he was.  
  
While everyone around had changed -- Kousuke remained much the same. He still dressed as a Water Temple monk, but with a belt patterned after the iconography of the new Wave Temple. The monk glanced at Suzume, then over her shoulder and waved at Shizune.  
  
The young girl, ignorant of the tension between her mistress and the monk, waved back with a smile.  
  
“I have come to coordinate with the Sannin about when we should depart,” the monk told Suzume as if she were the only one in the room able to hear him. “Saiken has relayed messages to me from Isobu and Gyuki -- I have predicted a path that the kidnappers will follow.”  
  
Tsunade narrowed her eyes and glanced at Orochimaru. Her instinct was to be wary of the monk’s claims to be able to speak to the three-and-eight-tails across distances. But Orochimaru looked at the monk attentively. Tsunade swallowed her suspicion and nodded to Suzume.  
  
“Please come in, abbot,” Suzume said with her ‘speak to patients’ voice. “The Sannin are accepting visitors right now.”  
  
\--  
  
Tenmu Otsutsuki  
  
Through Ninshu it was possible to see without eyes. So while they ran through the trees away from Wave and toward Hot Water Country, he looked over the jinchuuriki. They seemed well-cared for, though that was debatable according to the Kumo ninja. Tenmu focused on the young man, only slightly younger than himself.  
  
“Arun,” he spoke to his teacher in the now-dead language of the Otsutsuki main family. “Do you suppose he understands this language?”  
  
Ryou, the short ninja who carried Noburu, looked at him with confusion. The Kumo ninja’s spikey black mane of hair almost covered his forehead. He noticed how Tenmu was focused on the jinchuuriki, and jostled him a bit. The drugged teen didn’t respond. “I think he’s still out of it,” the ninja offered and rubbed his nose. “...Hopefully we didn’t give him an overdose.”  
  
“No,” Arun said as he ran on the opposite side of Ryou. He took spoke in the main family’s dead language. “It seems the boy is playing possum for now. But I sense no familiarity. The turtle spirit knows Ninshu, but has not shared it with the host. We are fortunate.”  
  
“But that is bad?” Tenmu replied as he ignored Ryou’s comment. The lack of contractions in the language made it annoying to use for day-to-day use. “We will have to teach him Ninshu when we bring him to the moon, right?”  
  
“To what end?” Arun shook his head and scowled. All around them, the Kumo ninja became visibly suspicious as the ‘monks’ spoke in a language they didn’t understand. “Once his eyes are consigned to the Tenseigan, he will face execution just as all the main family was made to do. As your father ordered.”  
  
Tenmu frowned. “Father is gone. What if I do not want to have another of my kinsman be killed over his grudge?”  
  
Arun was shocked for a moment, then shook his head. “Poor Jomei, I have failed as tutor to your son. He disrespects your will, even after you have gone.” He shook his head and covered his eyes with his hand in a self-shaming gesture. “Woe, Jomei. Woe….”  
  
“Are… the two of you angry?” Ryou asked as he looked at both of them. “I mean, he’s not dead… yet. But did you have some purpose for him that… overdosing opium would mess with?” He smiled, as if he felt responsible despite Honda -- the taller, lighter-skinned, and smooth-haired ninja behind him -- having been the one to deliver the opium.  
  
Tenmu, upset that Arun seemed more concerned with disrespect to Tenmu’s dead father than Tenmu himself, switched back to the language of Earth. “Arun has strong views about what we should do with the jinchuuriki when we get him home. I disagree with him. That is all.”  
  
Arun, even more shocked than before stared at Tenmu with his mouth slightly ajar. “You let them know we are not of one mind,” he hissed at Tenmu in the main family’s language when he recovered. “Now they can pit us against each other.”  
  
“You’re doing a fine job of that yourself,” Tenmu snapped, in the Earth’s language. “If you want me to do anything other than order that policy overturned when we get home -- you better think of a reason for it other than a dead man’s grudge.” The moment he said it, he knew he shouldn’t have said it. Arun looked genuinely hurt, the ninja looked confused -- except for L. L had an awful little smile on his face which Tenmu could see with Ninshu despite the distance between them. But he wouldn’t back down -- he was the clan leader, and he wouldn’t let his father’s orders in the past overrule his in the present.  
  
“Wow,” Noburu commented, announcing to the ninja that he was both ungagged and conscious enough to talk. Albeit with some slurring. “You guys have some issues. Let me add to them real quick.” Quick as a cut could bleed, Tenmu watched Noburu project a chakra string from his toe and yank back on it as soon as it touched Guiying’s leg.  
  
As had happened earlier, Guiying missed her jump and dropped Kushina into a tree as she struck a bough with her face. “My nobe!” The transformation specialist shouted as she held onto the branch with one hand and clutched her face with the other. “Th’ bastid brog by nobe!”  
  
Ryou sighed and stopped on a tree branch while Honda landed next to him and prepared more opium. “Can’t you guys use your chakra orb things to make him stop?” The short ninja asked, annoyed while L helped Guiying fix her nose.  
  
Tenmu, more willing to speak of the two Otsutsuki clan members, shrugged as he answered. “We can only manage one chakra orb a day. So we could probably do that tomorrow -- but today both our orbs are focused on disrupting their seals.”  
  
Arun frowned deeply. Tenmu guessed he didn’t want the ninja to know their limits -- which was silly, the ninja weren’t going to fight the two of them.  
  
Another opium injection, and the nine-tails jinchuuriki being retrieved from the tree, and they were off. The border to Hot Water Country was within sight.  
  
All of a sudden, L turned toward the forests further inland, and cursed. “Ryou, Guiying, make a break for it! They’ve caught up!” A moment later a powerful gust of wind carried a cloud of mist ahead of them -- the mist was acidic in nature, as the trees and shoreline began to melt at its touch.  
  
Tenmu had only moments to process that they were under attack when he realized there was someone behind him. He perceived her through Ninshu -- a beautiful young woman with a manic grin and eyes surrounded with blood red makeup. She looked very much like Tenmu’s ancient ancestor Kaguya did in her silk portraits. Tenmu was so struck with her awesome beauty he almost missed the sword in her hand, and very nearly failed to dodge. He flipped away from the beautiful Oto nin’s stabbing sword as it punctured the branch he had stood on.  
  
Ryou and Guiying made a break for the Hot Water border by way of the sea and water walking while the others prepared for the fight.  
  
\---  
  
Cast  
  
Ishidate Uemon: The current heir of the Uemon clan, Kokoro Uemon’s oldest child. A ninja artisan who aims to earn his master title with his use of the finicky evil eye totem to make a petrifying gauntlet that poses no risk to the user. Chunin rank, sixteen years old. Ishidate and Noburu were dating until recently, when Ishidate’s temper got the better of him. In combat, he is primarily a taijutsu user. He’s part of the Otogakure strategic response team, the macro planning sub-division.  
Arun Otsutsuki: A mysterious man who claims to be a monk from Moon Country. He’s never been seen with his eyes opened, and uses a strange chakra orb technique along with chakra strings to control others in lieu of genjutsu. On the behalf of his clan, he hired Kumo ninja to help him steal from Otogakure.  
Tenmu Otsutsuki: A relative of Arun’s, though much younger. Tenmu is more rash and impulsive than Arun, and is considered his apprentice. Like Arun, he has never been seen with his eyes opened. On top of Arun’s abilities, Tenmu seems to have the power to use his chakra orb and chakra strings to drain the chakra out of jutsu and people.


	35. Oh No

**Ch 35: Oh No**  
  
\---  
  
Sotaicho Kurosuki  
  
Raiga went after the Kumo leader right away -- the shot caller who had sensed them coming. A perfectly good ambush, wasted because of that weasely man. Raiga wanted to see him bleed, and he imagined Kiba longed to taste blood again. Lightning crackled between the two blades as Raiga jumped from branch to branch and intercepted the commander when he moved to guard his subordinate’s escape.  
  
With the twilight, the lightning on Kiba gave Raiga a demonic visage -- he was sure. It would only get worse as night progressed. If it gave the enemy pause, it would be worth it.  
  
Kumo was wealthy enough to equip anyone chunin and above with a full-length katana or some other sword. The weasely jounin raised his sword to block the overhead swing of Raiga. He only gave the man a second to realize he had made himself part of the current, and channeled lightning between the two halves of Kiba.  
  
He used substitution to escape and left Raiga with a charred log hooked on Kiba’s forks. While he cleared his swords of the log, he let momentum carry him to the ground. Haruki’s acidic mist flowed between the trees and over the cliff to coat the water. Raiga had enough time to free Kiba, and lept upward just before the boiling mist encircled him. When he lept up to the boughs of another tree, it listed with his additional weight. The acidic mist has begun to eat at the trunk, and the soil around them.  
  
Raiga scanned the battlefield to see where his intended opponent had gone. Junko was locked in combat with one of the two unknowns, while Sayaka and Hizashi had engaged the other. It seemed the other Kumo nin had gotten into an artillery battle with Haruki -- Raiga saw the kid bend lightning like water, a neat trick. When he couldn’t easily determine where the leader had gone -- he jumped backward. As he’d guessed, the leader had been trying to use silent killing -- seconds after Raiga had moved, the Kumo nin’s katana lodged in the branch where he had stood. The impact caused the tree to list dangerously to one side, too much for the poor pine -- it snapped and fell which meant Raiga had to fall back.  
  
He saw his target in the air as he lept from the tree. While the tree he landed on groaned and listed with his weight, he propelled himself after the leader and left the tree to snap in half as the other had. Kiba crackled as Raiga approached. The jounin’s weasely face twisted as he realized Raiga would hit him before he got close enough to the ground to use the substitution technique.  
  
He was inches away from dealing a killing blow, when his forward momentum stopped. Suddenly he was pulled away and thrown -- as he went he was struck with a sense of deja vu. As he regained the use of his limbs, he flipped and saw filiments of chakra fade away. Chakra strings, he realized. Raiga followed where they had come from and saw the older of the two unknowns. When the man’s hands moved, Raiga fanned Kiba’s blades in front of him. A wall of lightning sprung up and batted away the chakra strings before they could land.  
  
The unknown frowned. “I suspected you might know how to fight my strings, given how your student fought.” He swept his hands and launched faint chakra strings around them. Raiga didn’t see what he’d targetted, but he figured it out when the trees around them moved, creaked, and tore free of their bases. “But your acidic mist has provided me with alternative weapons.”  
  
Raiga didn’t linger long on the sight of ten Fire Country pines, each larger than a house, high in the air before he moved. He hadn’t believed Noburu when he’d been told what the ‘skilled users’ of the puppetmaster technique could do, and he’d been wrong. Pines swung and stabbed at him, they moved to block his path when he moved to close the distance. His usual lightning would not work well against the pines -- they would simply catch fire.  
  
“Lightning Cutter!” Raiga shouted as he slashed Kiba in opposite directions. The cutting wave of lightning split a pine which had been moved into his path -- the green crown fell away from the trunk and Raiga pressed forward. “Lightning Cutter! Lightning Cutter!”  
  
Two more trees were bisected in the same way, all while the unknown combatant seemed unfazed. _Wasn’t Sayaka and Hizashi fighting him a moment ago_ , Raiga thought to himself. He noticed one of the unknown’s fingers suddenly move, and immediately used the substitution technique. A log was struck by a chopped pine and driven into the mist. In a nearby tree, outside the range of the mist, Raiga narrowed his eyes.  
  
Kiba crackled with lightning as he linked the two blades together at the hilt. Electricity filled the air as Raiga centered himself and focused on a jutsu. A pine tree spun and arced to slam down on his position. Fortunately, Raiga’s jutsu didn’t take long. “Yang-Lightning release: Ball Lightning!” From each of Kiba’s point, an orb of electrical chakra formed and began to orbit Raiga. When the pine came down on him, minute arcs connected the two orbs and the tree. The orbs shrunk a little and the tree rapidly caught flame, blackend, and burned to ash in the seconds before it would hit.  
  
Raiga lept back into the fray, intent on the unknown. The jounin was either new, or tired from running; an easy kill. Pine trees burned to ash as the two orbs of Ball Lightning incinerated them once they got too close.  
  
The man’s eyes didn’t open as Raiga suddenly drew near -- and the Ball Lightning jutsu activated on him. The unknown’s clothes and skin blackened, burned, and fell away as ash in a moment. But what didn’t activate the jutsu was a wooden skeleton underneath, with glass eyes and painted teeth.  
  
In equal measure, Raiga was horrified that the enemy somehow had puppets which could control puppets of their own -- and he was impressed at the quality. It didn’t stop him from cutting it in half with Kiba, regardless.  
  
A green sphere in its chest lit up as it was cut, and burst as Kiba completed its swing. Raiga wished he could take it back for analysis -- but with the puppet master still alive, it was too risky. With Kiba to guide them, Raiga had the Ball Lightning jutsu fire on the puppet again, and leave it as ash.  
  
He still had to find that jounin and kill him.  
  
\--  
  
Tokubetsu-Jounin Kanzaki  
  
Sayaka and Hizashi had a good dynamic going. She would rain explosive tags on the environment, force the monk-looking-guy to move, and Hizashi would whip up a sudden gust to propel shrapnel in the direction he’d gone along with some acidic mist. It would keep the enemy on the move long enough for Shibi’s kikaichu to eat at his chakra, and leave him incapacitated.  
  
Sayaka used the motions of thrown kunai and explosive tags to set motion trigger tags down on the nearby trees. That way, when the enemy moved according to their herding, they would have even less time to react. However, the monk comparison might have been more appropriate than Sayaka initially assumed.  
  
Without his eyes opened, he avoided the shrapnel launched at him and seemed to avoid the explosive tags Sayaka left. But there was no way he could do such a thing, he’d need reflexes on par with Kousuke to make it happen. The fight dragged on, and the same song and dance repeated.  
  
“Sayaka, watch out!” Hizashi shouted, as he suddenly slashed the air with a tessen -- a scythe of chakra-enriched air cut vertically and hit nothing that she could see. “He’s trying to use chakra strings on us -- like Noburu does, but even harder to see!”  
  
Sayaka cursed to herself and decided that the cat and mouse game was over and done with. Shibi’s kikaichu weren’t working fast enough! “Tell Shibi to up his game with his next generation of beetles,” she growled and popped her knuckles. Her sword would become a liability if she drew it before she got close. Too many times, Noburu had yanked it out of her hands with his threads -- she learned her lesson.  
  
She closed in and tried to engage the monk in taijutsu, but he kept evading. She could see the kikaichu beetles on the man’s skin -- they were feeding, but not quickly enough. As she threw her first punch, she mentally asked herself: _why isn’t he trying to remove the bugs_? He swept his hand upward and deflected the punch then stopped Sayaka dead in her tracks with a blow to the solar plexus. Sayaka had the wind knocked out of her and fell to her knees to hastily draw air back into her lungs.  
  
“Fool,” the enemy muttered and lept away as Hizashi rushed in to give Sayaka time to recover. “Your delaying tactics only hasten your defeat.” He and Hizashi engaged in a brief taijutsu battle that lasted seconds longer than Sayaka’s. Hizashi had tried to slash the enemy who in turn responded with a palm strike that negated his wind attack and sent Hizashi flying.  
  
“That… that’s the vacuum palm!” Hizashi exclaimed as he recovered in the air. Sayaka had no idea what that was, so Hizashi helpfully explained once he’d landed. “That’s a Hyuga technique!”  
  
“The Hyuga do not own the concept of ‘gather chakra in the hand and launch it’, boy,” the enemy snapped. His eyes were still closed, so his frown looked slightly off. He totally disregarded Sayaka and focused on Hizashi. “Why must we fight, Hyuga? I am of the branch family of a Byakugan clan myself -- I could tell you how to murder your main family as we have ours.”  
  
She took the opening as a chance to lunge at him and draw her sword. At last, she had a bit of success, and managed to damage the man’s overlarge mustache when he dodged. Superficial damage was better than nothing. She realized how the man had his insane perceptive powers -- he was a Byakugan user outside the Hyuga! Like Noburu!  
  
Sayaka reached into a pocket as she pressed the assault and closed her eyes. Even if he had his eyes closed -- a flash explosive tag would blind a Byakugan user at close range. She’d won more than one sparing match with Noburu that way. Blindly she produced the tag and held it up as it flared to life.  
  
In defiance of her expectations, she found herself struck again and launched like an arrow through the air to strike a tree.  
  
“Well, that’s the first time that’s happened.” The enemy seemed surprised. When Sayaka recovered enough to look at him, he hadn’t reacted to the flash at all. “Someone’s tried to blind a blind man. Huh.” He sucked in air between his teeth and sighed it back out. “Young people these days.”  
  
“What?” Sayaka responded, utterly confused. She used her chakra to remain affixed to the tree. “But -- you have the Byakugan! That should have worked!”  
  
“Had,” Hizashi said with dawning horror. Sayaka glanced at him and noted a disgusted and fearful expression on the Konoha nin’s face. “He _had_ the Byakugan. His eyes are empty.”  
  
“A time-honored tradition of our founder,” the enemy muttered. A warbling shriek filled the air, which prompted him to look over his shoulder. “Hmm. Honda has lost to your friend. L will lose when your lord finds him, with the marionette destroyed. So I think it’s time for us to depart.” He turned and regarded the ninja with a sneer. “As a courtesy, we will return your jinchuuriki’s bodies to their villages when we are done with them.”  
  
Sayaka saw red and threw a kunai with a capsule of pressurized salt acid attached at the man. The weapon passed through him like he wasn’t there, and afterward he began to fade. Like he was a genjutsu, or something. Sayaka suddenly wondered -- had he placed a genjutsu on them, and they’d only imagined what they saw? She sheathed her sword and formed a hand sign. “Release!”  
  
The fading image of the man remained as it was, translucent and becoming more so.  
  
“Hizashi, what’s happening?” Sayaka shouted at the Hyuga and saw that he was transfixed. “Hizashi!” She jumped to him and shook him by the shoulder. “What’s going on with you?”  
  
“I didn’t know chakra could move like that…,” the genin muttered, dumbstruck. He shook his head. “He’s using some form of shunshin -- so fast it left an image behind.”  
  
“Well come on then -- let’s go after him!” It didn’t matter how effective she’d been against the monk -- they needed to slow them down however possible. Sayaka clapped Hizashi on the shoulder, sheathed her sword, and lept from their tree toward the slanted and sloping trees eaten by Haruki’s boiling mist. Northward, toward the border. She kept her pace slower than normal until Hizashi joined her. His special eyes would keep them from being ambushed.  
  
Hopefully.  
  
\--  
  
Genin Aburame  
  
Shibi and Ishidate’s ability to lock down the enemy made them ideal to go after the runners. Shibi rode on Ishidate’s back while he sent clusters of airborne kikaichu beetles after the escaping Kumo ninja. From what he could see -- Kushina had started to thrash and gave her captor a hard time. Noburu on the other hand seemed lethargic by comparison -- that was a bad sign.  
  
He promptly chose to tell Ishidate to motivate the chunin to run faster. It worked.  
  
Once they’d gotten close enough, Shibi felt a tug on his hand -- and saw that he had a chakra thread stuck to him, which lead toward Noburu. Shibi allowed himself a momentary smile under his collar. He directed his beetles to travel along the chakra thread, while the flying swarms returned to him.  
  
The first wave got about halfway across when the thread began to thin out, and created a bottleneck. The kikaichu piled onto each other, and took to the air to close the distance. Much closer, it was easier for the kikaichu to approach.  
  
Noburu’s captor was landed upon, and Shibi turned his attention to the further-ahead runner with Kushina on her shoulder. The kikaichu would do their job well, but Shibi didn’t think he could have them reach Kushina’s runner before she got across the border. They passed a fishing boat as they ran on the water, and ignored ther fisherman’s confusion.  
  
“I am going to sprint,” Shibi told Ishidate, “and try to either cast a genjutsu on her, or make her slow down enough for you to catch her.”  
  
“Here’s hoping for the latter,” Ishidate muttered and began to speed up.  
  
Shibi jumped off Ishidate’s back, and put his all into a dead sprint. As he got closer he could more easily make out Kushina thrashing on the Kumo kunoichi’s shoulder. Kushina had locked her hands together and repeatedly slammed her fists into the Kumo kunoichi’s flank. It was respectable of her to be able to take such repeated and enthusiastic abuse.  
  
Shibi promptly threw a senbon at her, right at where Kushina had struck repeatedly. Kushina’s next slam in that spot pierced the ropes her hands were tied with and drove the needle weapon even deeper. Kushina’s hands were freed, the kunoichi spasmed from being stabbed deeply into a tender spot, and Ishidate surged forward with his hand extended.  
  
Ishidate caught the kunoichi’s foot as she ran, and the evil eye totem flared to life. Ishidate shifted himself from pursuer to anchor, and forced the kunoichi to suddenly stop. Kushina flew off her shoulder from momentum, so Shibi kept running to catch her.  
  
Sadly, just because he could reach her did not mean he could catch her, or land gracefully with her. She struck him in the back and landed on him, which made him skid along the surface of the water for a couple feet. He twitched on the water’s surface while Kushina orientated herself on his back like he was a bench. Kikaichu bugs emerged to help eat at the ropes which bound her legs, while Kushina removed the unwanted bag and gag her kidnappers had given her.  
  
“That’s the second time you jerks have tried and failed to kidnap me!” She shouted, and pointed behind her, toward the kunoichi. “Get a better hobby!”  
  
Shibi tried to sit up, but Kushina was not accommodating.  
  
“Shibi, I’m sorry but I can’t actually water-walk right now. Could you stop trying to tip me over into the sea at night? Thanks!” Kushina clapped Shibi on the shoulder, and looked around. “Where’s the guy who was holding Noburu?”  
  
Shibi’s kikaichu checked the air and detected a trail of pheremones. “He’s that way,” Shibi pointed. “I got enough of my beetles on him that he should be unconscious in moments.”  
  
“And let me guess -- they did something to Noburu where he can’t water-walk either?” Ishidate asked. Shibi couldn’t see him clearly, but he imagined Ishidate had a pensive expression on his face. “Don’t go anywhere -- your leg looks to be in bad shape.” His coy words were probably directed at the Kumo kunoichi -- who stifled a pained shout at around the same time Shibi heard a splash. Seconds later Shibi caught sight of Ishidate’s red wig in the distance.  
  
“...I kind of need to stand up, Kushina,” Shibi said. “Could you grab onto my back?”  
  
“And get my kimono all wet? Ugh, fine.” She feigned affront and wrapped her arms around Shibi’s neck before he stood up.  
  
It was embarrassing how much he struggled with the additional weight, considering how many people carried him. But he refused to let it stop him. He turned and looked at the Kumo ninja, with one of her legs turned to stone till half-way up her thigh. That had to hurt. The senbon wound Shibi had inflicted bled steadily, and Shibi wondered if it had hit something important, given the kunoichi didn’t seem intent to fight despite both her hands being freed.  
  
“If it’s any consolation -- I don’t think you’ll be a guest of Oto for very long,” Shibi said, his tone dark. “Konoha has a special prison for ninja. I think you’ll like it. It’s so much better than other prisons I’m told -- we allow you to have direct sunlight.”  
  
The kunoichi scowled at him, then smirked all of a sudden. One of her hands twitched, and Shibi suddenly remembered how his hand had moved when Noburu landed a chakra string on it.  
  
Instinctively, Shibi unleashed a swarm of kikaichu on her as an unseen force yanked her through the air. As she was swung up to the air, she could feel pheromone messages from his beetles about how much they struggled to consume the chakra which had attached itself to her.  
  
“She’s going in the direction Ishidate went,” Kushina shouted, and pointed. “Go on, Shibi!”  
  
But he didn’t. Instead, he turned and ran back toward the ambush site.  
  
“Shibi! You’re going the wrong way!”  
  
“You can’t water walk -- which means your chakra must be drained.” Shibi hated himself with every word, he hated what he was doing, but he didn’t stop. “I have to get you to safety before I engage any hostiles.”  
  
It was quite possible that Orochimaru-sensei would not forgive him for his actions, even if he was correct -- which he didn’t know. Shibi focused on the sound of his feet on the water’s surface to drown out Kushina shouting at him to go back. The half-melted trees of their ambush site drew ever nearer, and Shibi could make out shapes in the distance and moved towards them.  
  
With sweet relief, he recognized the silhouettes of the Oto ninja and Hizashi on the approach.  
  
“Which heading,” Raiga shouted as he focused on the shore Shibi had run from.  
  
“West-north-west! Ishidate has engaged them!” Shibi shouted back. Kushina continued to shout at him to go back, but Shibi didn’t listen. He had to get her to safety first.  
  
The Oto nin ran past him in the direction he indicated, while Hizashi stopped to check over Kushina. He wished them luck in their hunt -- all while he hoped that Hizashi could somehow fix Kushina so that they could rejoin the effort to rescue Noburu.  
  
From how confused and alarmed Hizashi was when he used his Byakugan to examine Kushina’s seal, that would not be the case.  
  
\---  
  
I hope this fight captures the same feel Jiraiya vs Pein had where you can tell the reason the fight is going so poorly is that the combatants you’re rooting for don’t understand what their opponents are doing and how to counter it.  
  
Match results:  
  
Haruki vs Honda long-range ninjutsu battle: Haruki wins.  
Sayaka and Hizashi vs Arun in a mid-to-short range taijutsu battle: Arun wins.  
Raiga vs Arun marionette and L: Raiga wins.  
Shibi and Ishidate vs Ryou and Guiying: Shibi and Ishidate win.  
Shibi vs Gravity: Gravity wins.


	36. Dark Place

**Ch 36: Dark Place**  
  
\---  
  
Genin Aburame  
  
There was a border town not too far from the ambush site, where the fishermen went out at night to catch twelve-stone catfish. Shibi didn’t know what twelve-stone catfish were, Kushina had been the one to tell him about them. Given the situation, she wasn’t exactly keen on filling in details of the ecosystem of Hot Water and Whirlpool. He offered to get her some, but she rejected the idea. Instead, she asked them to get a room at an inn which could fit the whole rescue team.  
  
Once they were seated on tatami mats and cushions, Shibi looked around at the large room. There was a scroll on the wall which depicted a white sperm whale that had lept from the sea to land on a demon. Shibi noted that the artist had made a mistake -- sperm whales didn’t have teeth on their upper jaw. Black letters along the edge of the scroll told its story: Hakugei strikes down a demon trespasser.  
  
Kushina and Hizashi sat opposite each other, Hizashi with his Byakugan active and Kushina with a scowl on her face.  
  
“It appears to be a… solid mass of chakra, which is interfering with the seal,” Hizashi muttered. “I don’t know seals well enough to tell what it is doing… can you feel anything?”  
  
Kushina scowled deeper and laid her hand on her stomach. “It… feels like the seal is far away. I can’t will myself into the seal to talk to the fox, or to grandma Mito. I can feel them -- but I can’t reach them, and they can’t reach me.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Whatever chakra mass you’re talking about -- it’s something those monk guys did. They were talking about it, before you attacked.” She opened her eyes to glare at Shibi. “I wouldn’t have been able to help you when they attacked if Noburu hadn’t been getting them upset enough to waste all their opium on him.”  
  
Shibi deflated in light of his teammate’s scorn.  
  
Hizashi glanced at him and then physically snapped his fingers at Kushina. “He did as he was required. Konoha ninja look after each other, teammates moreso.” He sighed, and shook his head. “Allied shinobi are our second priority. That’s how it is. You would not have been safe in a brawl.” He let them sit in silence for a moment before he scooted forward. “I’m going to try and disrupt the chakra mass, alright?”  
  
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Kushina looked opposite her teammates and squared her shoulders. She was set on being upset at both of them, clearly.  
  
Shibi remained quiet and watched Hizashi tap Kushina’s stomach, in an attempt to burst the chakra mass with genjutsu release techniques. He watched, and wondered how the consequences of his choice would play out.  
  
_I saved my teammate… at the cost of my sensei’s family,_ Shibi told himself. _I couldn’t have won a fight against them all… all I would accomplish would be getting Kushina re-captured._  
  
But he hadn’t even tried. The others had been running for hours, and they still had the steam to try. Had he been a coward? Had he shamed his village with such a display? Oto depended on Konoha guarding their flank -- would they see Shibi’s actions as a betrayal?  
  
“...I’m sorry,” Shibi said, soft. He drew himself into his coat, to try and make himself as small as he felt. Shibi wanted to explain, but he knew explaining without an invitation invalidated the apology.  
  
“Don’t apologize to me,” Kushina snapped. “I’m fine.. .aside from whatever chakra cancer they shoved in me.” She turned to glare at Shibi for a moment. “Do you know what happens when a village steals a kekkei genkai from another?”  
  
Shibi felt his stomach twist. But he refused to be silent on the topic, as he would be partly responsible. “If a natural-born wielder is captured… they are forced to produce children. It… is preferred to capture men, as they can produce more in a shorter amount of time.” His fingers closed into fists. “It was common during the warring clans era.” He refused to look away from them. He refused to ignore the consequences of his decisions.  
  
“And they would have done the same to you,” Hizashi sharply added, directed at Kushina. He jabbed her in the stomach with a new release attempt. “If you had gone into a fight like this, where you cannot use your chakra chains and where you don’t have any weapons -- you would have been worse than useless.”  
  
Kushina puffed up her cheeks, upset that her critique of Shibi had been deflected.  
  
Shibi didn’t want to comment -- Kushina was dressed in a dark blue kimono with a repeated logo of an Otogakure spa in lighter blue along the sleeves. It was quite obvious where she had been kidnapped.  
  
“I coulda used taijutsu,” she defended herself. “I don’t need weapons or chakra chains for that.”  
  
“Have you fought either of those monk-folk with taijutsu?” Hizashi arched a brow. “Because I have. I, with my chakra and my weapons, got beaten as if it were childsplay.” He jabbed her in the stomach again. “I’m going to try and extend my chakra into you like a knife to pop it. You may feel a slight pinch.”  
  
Kushina’s eyes suddenly bugged out of her head, she clapped a hand over her mouth and clutched her stomach with the other as she bent over. Her back spasmed, like she was about to throw up.  
  
“Um.” Hizashi pulled his hand back and glanced at Shibi. “Maybe… I shouldn’t have done that.” He focused on Kushina and tried to smile. “But… the mass has dispersed? It looks like it’s being integrated into your chakra network… maybe that’s why you’re feeling this way?”  
  
Kushina was unable to respond. Shibi felt sick himself from watching her retch like she was about to throw up violently.  
  
“Let me help,” he said and extended his hand. A few kikaichu beetles flew from his hand to land on Kushina. Moments later, he got signals that they had begun to extract the foreign chakra from her system. What worried him is how they signaled for reinforcements -- they found the chakra hard to extract.  
  
While Kushina recovered, to the point where she no longer needed to physically hold her mouth shut, there was a knock at the door. The innkeeper indicated the guests Shibi had informed her of had arrived. In walked the Oto ninja.  
  
None of them were smiling. A palpable air of dread surrounded them. And importantly, neither Ishidate or Noburu were among them. Shibi focused his eyes on his knees, unwilling to meet what he was sure were angry glares. One by one, the Oto ninja sat down and laid their weapons on the floor.  
  
It was one of the few times they’d ever been so quiet that Shibi remembered.  
  
Shibi drew in his breath, and steeled himself to ask about the fight. He wouldn’t allow himself to shirk his responsibility. “Did they kill Ishidate?”  
  
Raiga sighed, Shibi could see the Sotaicho’s leg move slightly to a more comfortable position. He didn’t answer until Shibi lifted his eyes to meet Raiga’s. The Sotaicho looked exhausted. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “We found that Kumo kunoichi turned to stone, and shattered. She looked surprised. But there was no blood, the other Kumo ninja was nowhere to be seen, and we didn’t see either of those monks.” He thinned his lips, an attempt at a smile. “So, there’s hope.”  
  
Shibi looked around and saw the Oto ninja despondent. Even happy-go-lucky Junko seemed neutral -- the equivalent of despair for her. He had to say something. “I -- “  
  
“It was good that you got Kushina to safety.” Raiga turned his eyes away and focused on her. “The enemy has access to the puppet master jutsu, at a skill level which I haven’t seen in actual puppet masters before. She would have been snatched, easily.” He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone, get the details fixed into your heads. We’re going back to Oto in the morning. And we’re going to hope that Orochimaru and Kousuke have a better chance against those monks -- with the intel we provide them.”  
  
Grumbles and outrage met Raiga, the younger ninja wanted no part of leaving the enemy behind. Shibi understood their feelings. He listened to Raiga talk his genin and toku-jou team members down and committed to memory that it was partly his fault. Even if it was the right thing to do -- he made a choice that could have find a friend in a horrific situation. Regardless of how it turned out, he’d have to live with that.  
  
\--  
  
Chunin Uemon  
  
Ishidate pulled Noburu along by his hand, he’d been carrying Shibi for too long after a full day of running and fighting powered by soldier pills and marcher’s broth. Ishidate legitimately had so little chakra that he didn’t expect the enemy to find them before morning. They just had to get to a town, somewhere they could rest.  
  
Noburu wasn’t in good shape, he could tell from the way his ex looked. He’d said they’d been shooting him full of opium all day -- which was why he was so sweaty and lethargic. The jinchuuriki had a rough time following Ishidate with speed -- hence Ishidate’s need to pull him along.  
  
They were on the forest floor, with Fire Country pines in every direction, and trunks that reached upwards of ten meters before branches spread out from them. The pines marked regions where Konoha’s First Hokage had fought -- the tall trees meant to make it easier for ninja to travel. But grounded, it made it hard for them to escape without detection.  
  
Ishidate didn’t look behind him further than Noburu -- once his energy was gone, they would have to hunker down and hide. If the Kumo ninja and the monks had recovered from his poison attack enough to chase them -- there was nothing they could do. But that wasn’t the case yet. Ishidate flexed the hand which bore the evil eye totem, and offered prayer to whatever god slept in the depths of the forest for protection.  
  
His lungs hurt, his legs hurt, his hand twinged from when he had grabbed that kunoichi who thought she was safe by the neck. Out of those three pains, he liked the last one. He focused on it, and he used it to keep him on the forward march.  
  
“Okay,” Noburu gasped out. “I’m like… ninety… nine-ish percent done for the day. Chakra strings and burning opium out of my blood has left me with not much else.” He tugged against Ishidate’s grip on his hand. “We need to find someplace we can hide.”  
  
“We keep going until that ish falls off that ninety-nine,” Ishidate fired back. He turned and smirked at his ex. “Think you can keep at it a bit more?”  
  
Noburu, missing his usual shades, was easy to read. He was flustered by someone throwing his usual innuendos back at him. For someone so prone to sass and snark, he didn’t deal with it well himself, or maybe he just didn’t deal with it well from Ishidate. “We’re both too young for that kind of talk!”  
  
“Just teasing, come on! Keep up!” Ishidate pulled Noburu along slightly faster and hoped the extra ten minutes of running would end up paying off. It wasn’t long before he had only enough energy to secure them a shelter. Ishidate let go of Noburu’s hand and formed hand seals which caused the evil eye totem to fully open. “Earth release: Trapdoor bunker.” Ishidate touched the ground with his right hand -- the evil eye totem glowed red, and the ground shifted under their feet. He grabbed the grass and pulled. A section of soil only just wider than Ishidate’s shoulders, hinged up and revealed a pit lined in silk threads. “You know, I still don’t know how an earth release technique creates silk like this -- but it keeps us from getting dirty.”  
  
Noburu shrugged and hopped into the pit. Given he was ever so slightly wider than Ishidate -- he quickly got stuck. The chubby genin wiggled a bit, and then glared up at Ishidate. “You did this on purpose.”  
  
“I did that on purpose,” Ishidate confirmed, and nodded. He pushed down on Noburu’s shoulder and soon got Noburu through the hole. He gave Noburu a chance to shuffle to one side before he hopped in too hopped into the pit and pulled the lid closed.  
  
The two Oto ninja were alone in the dark trapdoor bunker, in a situation where they had to hope that the enemy failed to find them. The silk lining of the trapdoor bunker made for a comfortable seat, and reasonable protection from dirt or mud in the event of rain. Ishidate sat down on one side of the trapdoor, while Noburu did the same. In the moment of imagined safety, the awkwardness of the situation came back full force.  
  
Ishidate found himself in a bunker, with his ex, who at the time lacked trousers. When and if they got to a village -- that would have to be something they fixed.  
  
“I’m sorry Raiga-sensei made you come on this mission,” Noburu said shakily. “You… looked pretty upset from what my shadow clones remember seeing.”  
  
“Well, I had just heard that someone had trespassed on the village,” Ishidate muttered back with an arched eyebrow. “And that you were apparently a target for them. That’s generally an upsetting situation.” He stopped to consider why he bothered to emote with his face -- Noburu didn’t have the chakra to activate his Byakugan again. “But... I volunteered. Lord Raiga thought me being here would keep you from going berserk. At the time we didn’t know about all the opium. Or the chakra strings. Or the chakra tumor they shoved into your head.”  
  
Silence dragged on. And Ishidate reflected on what he’d said. Had he been too aggressive, too upset, had he been too accusatory? Should he have apologized immediately, or wait until the topic came up -- as it would inevitably.  
  
“I… should have sent a shadow clone to let you know. About the dinner.” Noburu shifted, though Ishidate couldn’t see exactly how. “I was mad, and stupid… I’m sorry.”  
  
“And I was… probably in the wrong to call you fat, a coward, useless, and a cheesemonger.” Ishidate was tight-lipped and avoided the _far worse_ things he had said. “As well as the… rest of what I said. I should have been angry at your uncle for being thoughtless, not at you. I’m sorry too.”  
  
Their mutual apology did nothing to dispel the awkward air between them. The silence dragged on as neither shinobi knew what to say.  
  
“Was… that poison a new mixture? I don’t recall the cloud being pink.” Noburu tried to ease the tension with casual small talk, his tone curious.  
  
Ishidate smiled even though he knew no one could see it, and earnestly responded. “Yeah. We adjusted the formula so that it’s not lethal -- it’s just a chemical cocktail that disrupts the nervous system. The breakthrough was adding powdered… opium….” Ishidate’s smile became more brittle and his voice became noticeably strained as he kept talking.  
  
“I’m not going to be anti-opium because of this, or anything.” Noburu’s calm and worldly bearing came back, an immediate relief to Ishidate. “A couple times, I’ve been the one to teach people how to turn opium into heroin. Never a good look, really, but for the first few years -- until politics turns against you -- it’s a great deal.”  
  
Ishidate’s lips tightened as he struggled to remember what ‘heroin’ was. “Ah, thank you for being understanding. Because if it works against those monks… I’d like to keep using it.”  
  
“Just so you know, medical knowledge and all, using it against jinchuuriki is _not advised_.” He shifted and groaned -- like a sore spot flared up. “If I didn’t have this chakra tumor in my head, Isobu would be able to use my medical knowledge to counter it.”  
  
Ishidate made a ‘hmm’ sound to acknowledge the advice. He frowned as his eyes adjusted to the near-total darkness enough to roughly make out a silhouette. “After you’ve rested, will you be able to fight?”  
  
“I don’t know. I had no problems using chakra strings to slow those assholes down, and helping Shibi. But they put this tumor in my head specifically to avoid Isobu helping me, and to mess up my chakra control. When I fought them on my own, they stomped me.” The silhouette of Ishidate’s ex shrugged. “I’ll try something when I have more chakra in the morning. But until then… spare a kunai?”  
  
Ishidate drew a kunai and offered it to Noburu. When Noburu took it, Ishidate lingered a bit in the offering pose. It seemed cool in his head, but when he actually did it -- it looked weird. Especially since Noburu probably couldn’t see it very well. “When this is over… if we get back to Oto… do we wanna try again?”  
  
Noburu didn’t respond quickly, for a moment Ishidate thought that an implicit ‘no’ -- and he spoke again as Ishidate was about to withdraw his hand.  
  
“It’s been a while since I lived long enough to go through puberty, the whole teenage thing. You’re not in control most of the time.” Noburu spun the kunai around and held it like he expected to use it at any moment. “So… I might not be totally rational when I say this, but I’d like to try.” He flipped the kunai again. “As long as your mom stops asking me to figure out how to make clones to get your clan the Byakugan.”  
  
Ishidate smiled, both because he had something to look forward to, and the memory of his mother’s talks with the hospital staff. “You really shouldn’t have had that conversation where she could hear you. The ability to just ‘design’ babies, and you think people wouldn’t automatically go for that?”  
  
“See -- most people have these things called ‘morals’.”  
  
“You can’t see it right now -- but I’m giving you the look of extreme doubt that these ‘morals’ actually exist.”  
  
The levity helped. It distracted them from the reality of hiding underground in the hopes of escaping monks who could see without eyes.  
  
\---  
  
You see, you only need to have the trapdoor bunker collapse once due to rainfall before you rework the jutsu to include something that lets it hold its shape even during a monsoon.  
  
If you’re wondering about the twelve-stone catfish, yes it’s because of their weight, and they frequently eat the scraps left over from carcasses, especially whale remains from krakens.


	37. In Hot Water

**Ch 37: In Hot Water**  
  
\---  
  
Sotaicho Kurosuki  
  
Raiga had a mask of hateful fury on his face as they rode the wooden elevator down from the Wave Temple to the Oto visitor’s center. His team, and Orochimaru’s all stood in a wooden tube large enough to fit a maneater boar comfortably, lined with wood paneling painted in propagandist images of Oto. He remembered having to pose for the painting of him as a conductor of a band for other ninjas -- they would need to re-do it soon, as the paint had begun to chip. Another painting was of the silhouette of Oto’s towers as it would be when completed. The painter had included enough details to pick out individual towers -- such as the Kaguya’s Bone Palace.  
  
His mask of fury allowed him to appreciate the art without anyone interrupting his thoughts. He had to consider the possibility of going to war, which Oto would likely not survive. Konoha would, most definitely. He was honestly surprised that their first major enemy was Kumo -- and not Nadeshiko. Kumo’s economy was booming, they had two bijuu already, and they had more mineral resources than even Iwa. _Why did they pick a fight?_ He wondered as he led everyone off the elevator into the visitor’s center.  
  
It was mostly carved into the side of the cliff, and connected to the industrious areas of the city -- the casino, the bazaar, the entertainment district, hotels, and the restaurants. Opposite the elevator’s doors, the first thing people saw when they entered the village, was a dome of bubble windows in a coral frame that showed Otogakure’s towers in their stunning beauty.  
  
Raiga’s mind spun with ideas and concerns as they walked to a hallway where chunin stood at attention on metal disks emblazoned with different elaborate designs -- with some disks and chunin missing, bubble windows where the disks ought to have been. A Kaguya chunin broke his stance to wave to Junko, who waved back. Raiga ignored the man’s lack of discipline and stepped onto a disk emblazoned with the kanji for ‘one’ surrounded by chrysanthemum flowers.  
  
It was amazing how much beauty could be obtained in a short amount of time when ninja acquired hobbies.  
  
The chunin for the disk bowed to Raiga and waited for his group to settle down on the disk. Once everyone stood still, he formed hand seals for the transition. “Water release: Witch’s Bubble.” The chunin blew a bubble bigger than the disk, but affixed to it, in which everyone stood. Then, the disk sank down and dragged the bubble down with it. As it left, a bubble film was left where it had stood.  
  
Raiga didn’t allow his mask of fury to slip for a moment while he internally relaxed at the beauty of Oto’s reefs. When they had started, the depths of the sound were barren of large fish populations. But with the reefs and Kousuke’s light bubbles, they had come in from shallower waters and become at home.  
  
The bubble passed some Hoshigaki clansmen, training their younger members in underwater combat, and advanced on Tower One. Tower One was covered in corals that grew around the light bubbles, with most of the village’s external light produced at Tower One. With the disk still at the bottom, the bubble moved to one of several overhanging structures along the tower’s exterior and rose up into a bubble window directly above them.  
  
Once it had passed through, the disk locked into place and the bubble burst. They were in a similar hall, but the disks were all orientated to one side. The door out of the room was carved with two different images. On one side, an image of the Buddha with his hand presented pointing up and inscribed with ‘peace’. On the other, a masked heavily armored oni with his hand presented pointing down and inscribed with ‘war’. The two were positioned as if they presented the idea of two halves making one whole.  
  
Raiga pushed on the ‘war’ side to exit the hall. Up through the halls of Tower One they went, while Raiga pondered why Kumo had stolen from them _and_ Konoha, sure to cause a war. It wasn’t until they passed a map in the diplomacy floor that it clicked for him, and he felt foolish that he hadn’t seen it earlier.  
  
The map was of the shinobi continent and the sub-continent. They used colors to indicate the four elemental nations and Soup Country and the spheres of influence they shared. Areas where multiple nations had influence were colored by alternating stripes. Fire naturally had the most, while Soup was the only to have an influence on the sub-continent.  
  
However, he naturally gravitated toward the yellow which represented Lightning Country. Lightning had only two allies in their sphere of influence, Frost and Hot Water. They contested influence in Snow Country with Earth, and Raiga watched as Hot Water was painted with the red stripes of Fire Country. They’d backed Lightning Country into a political corner with their diplomacy.  
  
Which, of course, meant that Kumo would lash out. Lest they fall as Water had fallen.  
  
“Everyone,” Raiga said as he examined the map more to try and predict who would ally with whom against them, and if Konoha had known that this would happen. “I want you to compile a report, submit a copy to me and another to Orochimaru. Assuming he hasn’t left the village yet.”  
  
“He hasn’t,” Shibi commented and withdrew his head into his jacket’s collar some more.  
  
“Good. After that, you’re dismissed. We’ll meet up again when we have a plan of attack.” Raiga looked over his shoulder at them, his mask still in place. “Go.”  
  
\--  
  
Genin Fujimoto  
  
It wasn’t supposed to play out as it had. Haruki beat himself up mentally as they’d returned, in an attempt to deal with the paradox. He had won -- beaten a Kumo ninja in a ninjutsu fight -- and they lost. Konoha got their kidnapped ninja back, but Oto was down two. He found it so incredibly hard not to be bitter.  
  
But while he lived, he had to comport himself as a member of the noble Fujimoto clan. He had a memento of his victory -- a Kumo forehead proector, half-melted. After he’d completed his report, he dropped one off with Raiga-sensei’s office and left for Tower Four to present the copy to Orochimaru.  
  
Tower Four’s transit area featured paintings of bellflowers in dusty pink colors along the walls. The door was carved in the image of Guanyin. Just past the door, in the entrance hall, was a shrine to the same bodhisattva. Incense burned for her, and a table with offerings was laid out. Haruki placed the Kumo forehead protector on the offering table, and bowed his head in prayer.  
  
 _Guanyin, ever-kind_ , Haruki thought to himself while chimes rang out from a gentle breeze. _Relieve this soul of some of their negative karma, and let them be reborn in a fairer world._ He clapped his hands and rang a bell on the shrine altar, in observance of the Uemon tradition. With the prayer done, he took back the forehead protector and proceeded into the hospital.  
  
He passed a painter hard at work painting a story onto the wall of the hospital entranceway. It seemed to tell the story of a vicious swordswoman who changed her ways and became a doctor, but only the linework was done at the time.  
  
A quick check-in at the security station confirmed he had permission to approach the Sannin’s room and off Haruki went. He walked through the halls, nodded to the medical ninja he recognized, and approached the room decorated with a fish with many jewel-like scales. He heard voices in the room -- mostly all familiar.  
  
He knocked, and waited for someone inside to answer. The door opened and Shibi answered. Haruki tried very hard to remain neutral and professional, and failed utterly by Shibi’s flinching reaction. “I’m here to submit my report, per my sensei’s orders,” Haruki spoke in a saccharine tone. He defaulted to the ‘courtly voice’ his parents had taught him when he couldn’t bare to be nice.  
  
Shibi looked to the side, and nodded at an unseen prompt. He stepped aside and allowed Haruki to enter.  
  
He was surprised to see Kousuke there, seated on the floor, while Tsunade bridged him and Orochimaru on the bed with her arms. Their positioning was so awkward that she was forced to sit on a stool to complete whatever task she was doing. Hizashi leaned on the wall immediately next to the door, while Kushina sat on Orochimaru’s bed. She had switched to her usual clothes -- featureless blue trousers with a matching top over mesh, with her hair done up in a braid. Whatever conversation they had been having was stopped dead by his arrival.  
  
Silent as a grave, the bitter teen walked in and handed the black-bound report booklet to Orochimaru with a bow. Once it had been taken, Haruki turned to leave the hospital room, but was stopped short.  
  
“Hold, a moment,” Orochimaru crooned, no doubt his version of the ‘courtly voice’. “You are the only member of your team to have defeated one of the Kumo ninja.” He had already opened the report by the time Haruki turned around, and his eyes danced down the pages so fast Haruki half wondered if he had a dojutsu. “What skill level would you put the ninja’s proficiency at?”  
  
Haruki glanced around at the silent members of Orochimaru’s team. They were stony as statues. “Chunin, maybe toku-jou,” he shrugged. “He used something called ‘storm release’. Neat party trick. Ate up his chakra really fast and he wasn’t so good at firing it into a forest at night when he couldn’t see very well.”  
  
“Kushina identifies him as the one who administered the opium to Noburu when they were both captured. It’s possible you eliminated their medical ninja.” Orochimaru flipped to the next page.  
  
“Then their survival odds went down a lot. Down two members, with Noburu to deal with, minus opium.” Haruki’s courtly voice squared up against Orochimaru’s. “Are there other questions, Lord Orochimaru?”  
  
Tsunade shook Orochimaru’s shoulder and glared at him when he turned to look at her.  
  
The snake Sannin sighed. “I… understand you’re unhappy with the situation. My student was rescued, and Noburu wasn’t. But it was purely by chance….”  
  
Haruki realized what direction the conversation would turn even as Orochimaru kept talking as if the situation was focused on Haruki’s feelings. He narrowed his eyes at the pale snake and turned up his saccharine tone with a smile. “I can’t help but see between the lines here.” He wagged his finger at Orochimaru as if he’d caught him. “You want me to help diffuse any resentment Noburu might have over not being rescued.”  
  
Orochimaru didn’t respond, but the way his students did gave the show away.  
  
“If I were you -- I would take the energy you’re putting toward damage control, and put it instead into finding and rescuing Noburu.” Haruki gave Orochimaru a fake smile, and made no effort to hide it’s falsehood. “A genuine effort on your part will do more for damage control than my opinion on it ever will.”  
  
Orochimaru’s face broke out in a similarly fake smile. “I appreciate the advice. And I’ll be sure to put every effort into getting my nephew back, safe and sound.”  
  
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” Haruki turned and left the room with his orders fulfilled. He had the unfortunate task of relaying Noburu’s status to Akami to look forward to.  
  
\--  
  
Ninja-Rat Keigo  
  
With a sudden tugging sensation, and a puff of smoke, Keigo came back to the shinobi continent. A nearby squeak let him know Akimitsu had also been summoned. Given the number of rat summoners, Keigo looked around with hope. It was dark, they were underground, it smelled like sweaty humans -- but he made out the boss’ silhouette in no time.  
  
“Boss!” Keigo exclaimed, and dashed forward. Akimitsu followed Keigo’s tail, and together they scurried up Noburu’s arms to his shoulders. “You’re not dead!”  
  
“I’m so happy that you immediately assumed I was dead when the two of you got dismissed,” Noburu muttered, and rubbed the ninja rodents all the same. “I’m glad you got out, Aki.”  
  
The ninja mouse huffed, but jumped into Noburu’s hand for petting anyway. “I only had a mopey teenager squish me between him and a wall by ninja monks. It happens to everyone eventually.”  
  
Keigo looked around and saw another person in the bunker. He narrowed his eyes at the other party. “The hell you doing here?”  
  
“Making my apologies,” Ishidate responded evenly. “By rescuing Noburu, admitting I was wrong, and moving at his pace.”  
  
Akimitsu escaped Noburu’s pampering grip and scurried over the teen for a damage report. “Nine puncture wounds, left thigh,” the mouse announced as he found them. “Seem to be properly disinfected and scabbed up. Can’t help but notice the lack of trousers, can you manage a clone and transformation?”  
  
Noburu’s eye twitched. “Sure let me try.” He formed a seal and created a cloud of smoke. A second, equally sweaty Noburu appeared who then vanished in a puff of smoke. Left behind were a pair of simple black trousers which Noburu shimmied into. “I’m not going to enjoy these memories.”  
  
“I’m not enjoying these memories either,” muttered the trousers.  
  
“Shaddup.” Now dressed, but still pretty sweaty, Noburu patted his summons. “We’re in potentially enemy territory. I’m going to use my Byakugan to try and determine where we are, and we need you to carry a message to Oto about where we are.”  
  
Keigo and Akimitsu saluted, and stood ready. Keigo went further, and produced a rat-sized scroll and pen from his flak jacket pouch to write down details.  
  
They watched as Noburu’s eyes shifted from reptilian into the seemingly blind ovals of the Byakugan. Immediately the teen’s face pinched, like he’d seen something unpleasant. “We’re surrounded,” he muttered. “Yugakure ninja. And… oh shit.” Noburu rubbed his forehead and slumped. “We’re on the Hot Water side of the border. I can see the border stones -- sixty feet in that direction.” He pointed, presumably, to the south-west.  
  
Keigo noted the information down, and offered his tail to the visibly stressed Akimitsu to hug. For an assassination mouse, he was so touchy-feely.  
  
“I can try burrowing to the border,” Ishidate commented. “But if they know we’re here -- they’ll probably flood this tunnel if we do something like that.” He tapped his chin. “Unless… we seal this bunker off when we go.”  
  
“Minor problem with that,” Noburu muttered, and poked the side of the bunker. Keigo glanced and saw a mass of stiff silk all along the walls and floor. “This stuff’s structural integrity would be shot doing that, so it could collapse on us anyway.”  
  
“So, we wanna try fighting our way to the border?” Ishidate lit the room briefly with his evil eye totem’s orange light. “I can stone them to death, you just keep them off me.”  
  
Noburu frowned. “What the… I’m looking at the border stones… are we near Rice Country or something? They don’t show the border as being with Fire Country. And….” He released his Byakugan and rubbed his eyes. “Ow. I can’t look past them. My range is either nerfed by this tumor, or there’s something there blocking me.”  
  
“How would a chakra tumor affect your vision?” Ishidate looked genuinely confused.  
  
“Um,” Keigo spoke up and lifted his pen from his paper. “Excuse me -- a _what_ tumor?”  
  
“Those monks shoved something into my seal which keeps me from talking to Isobu or borrowing his chakra.” Noburu crossed his legs and exhaled slowly. “I’m going to try and pop it with my internal chakra control. Just… have nearby pathways knife out at it, you know.”  
  
“That sounds like a really foolish plan that is likely to result in immediately negative consequen -- “ Akimitsu started to talk sense, but it went unheard.  
  
Noburu’s eyes started moving rapidly, and his jaw locked up. Seconds later he fell backward and began to twitch slightly. Seconds later the clone pants he’d put on dispersed in a cloud of smoke. Noburu had induced a seizure, Keigo guessed.  
  
Akimitsu threw his front paws in the air, exasperated, as Keigo noted all these events down, and Ishidate shuffled forward to check on Noburu. Minutes ticked by and Ishidate became more visibly worried. The summons too, became worried, as the risk of status epilepticus became more an issue.  
  
A sudden golden light emerged from Noburu’s face as the shaking stopped. “That was close,” rumbled a voice _like_ Noburu’s but accented. Both the rodents hastily bowed as Noburu’s body sat up and pushed Ishidate back with minimal fuss. The golden light which shone from within Noburu’s eyes let them know the bijuu was in control. “I’ve never had to fix a seizure in a jinchuuriki before.”  
  
“Lord Isobu,” Ishidate said and bowed his head. “Is… Noburu alright?”  
  
The bijuu-possesed jinchuuriki shook his head. “Mmm. Hard to say. The foreign chakra is not being easily dispersed. He does battle with the lingering will up here.” Isobu tapped the side of Noburu’s head. He glanced at Keigo and noted the rat’s pen and paper. The bijuu pointed at the rat, and focused on him. “An important piece of information that you should relay to the village. The monks spoke a language which has been dead for hundreds of years on this continent. I heard them, and their plans.”  
  
Keigo noted down what the spirit of the sea passed along to him. The removal of eyes and execution was… unexpected, but not something outside the realm of human cruelty. That there was a ‘main’ and ‘branch’ family dynamic at play was most interesting. As was the avenue for dividing the two monks -- the younger’s ethics, and the older’s traditionalist views.  
  
Isobu turned around, and looked in the direction Noburu had pointed earlier. “We are near Mount Koryu. I will help you get to the mountain, we can find allies in the Tatsushiro clan there.”  
  
Ishidate glanced at the rodents for insight, and Keigo remembered that he was from the sub-continent. There was no way the story had spread that far.  
  
“Mount Koryu is said to be where five dragons live in close proximity,” Keigo explained with a wary expression. “They have a covenant with the Tatushiro clan, to be granted power and blessedly abundant land in exchange for protection and advocacy. Their lands are never bothered by winter, their harvests never fail, and yaoguai are too afraid of the dragons to hunt the Tatsushiro.”  
  
“Dragons are the shape most gods choose to take in their slumber,” Isobu muttered. “But these five, the Genryu, are wide awake. They will offer sanctuary if you can get to them -- but their presence will disrupt your chakra.”  
  
Keigo noted as much of the conversation down as was appropriate, and found he had no more room in the scroll. “I have to go. Boss’ orders,” he explained to the human and the jinchuuriki, then turned to the ninja-mouse. “Aki, you want to come with me or stay with them?”  
  
“I’ll stay here -- I want to tell the boss ‘I told you so’, when he comes out of this.” Akimitsu crossed his paws and grinned maliciously. “And help him with my usual tricks.” There was the assassination expert Keigo knew.  
  
“Good hunting,” Keigo said and patted the mouse on the head. “And try not to cause any medical emergencies while I’m gone,” he told the giants, rolled up his scroll, and dispersed.  
  
\---  
  
Oh shit it’s time for Chair to attempt to make one of the worst Naruto games work in a heavy political fic! Hopefully the Tatsushiro clan have a spare pair of trousers Noburu can borrow.


	38. Warmonger's Delight

**Ch 38: Warmonger's Delight**  
  
\---  
  
Third Hokage  
  
Hiruzen had completed his work, and took his family and friends to see a play in Konoha’s theatre house as a rare treat. The play that was to be performed for that week told the story of how the Aburame clan warred with the centipede and ant clans -- whose names were not directly used at the request of the Aburame. Biwako and Hiruzen’s children sat in a box seat at the theatre next to the box in which Hiruzen and the Konoha council sat. Hiruzen waved to his youngest son when the boy waved at him.  
  
 _“Mistress Centipede, I implore you! Dress yourself -- hide away your bosom!”  
  
“Cowardly Bettle-Boy, so afraid of a woman’s bosom that you sheathe your sword?! The Ants speak truly about you!”_  
  
Koharu stifled a chuckle, and hid her smile behind her hand. That was her favorite part of the play, as far as Hiruzen could tell.  
  
Danzo sighed, and leaned on his fist, propped up on the arm of his chair. “I’ll never understand how such stoic warriors like the Aburame came from such… cowardly origins.”  
  
Homura adjusted his glasses, and put his knowledge of the history of Konoha’s clans to work. “Beetle-Boy represents the foolish notions they had when the wars began. Things like how one fought ought to be superior to what one fought for, and other such civilian notions.”  
  
“It also serves to show how the centipedes were so focused on warfare they neglected their _welfare_ ,” Hiruzen added and patted Danzo on the shoulder. “Remind you of anyone.”  
  
Danzo glared at him. “I would never let a woman’s bosom distract me from a fight.”  
  
“It’s not about the bosoms.” Hiruzen rolled his eyes. “It’s symbolism.”  
  
Danzo arched his one remaining eyebrow dangerously high and gestured to the play. “Are we watching the same play?”  
  
 _“And now_ your _bosoms are exposed, boy! Should I insult you and say you are not worth killing until you are dressed?!”  
  
“That would be greatly appreciated, actually!”_  
  
Hiruzen grunted indignantly, and focused on the play. Danzo’s inability to see nuance was nothing new to him, but he always hoped it was something that could be fixed via exposure to the arts.  
  
There was a knock at the door to the box -- on the inside. Moments later, a masked Anbu handed Hiruzen a trio of scrolls. What worried him was that two were from his students by the use of the three-prong sealing method on their exteriors, and the third was clearly abused -- a gouge had been torn in the scroll, by a kunai passing too close to it, Hiruzen guessed. There was blood in and around the gouge, the thrower had purposefully meant to destroy the scroll but missed.  
  
Hiruzen snapped his fingers, and stood from his seat with the scrolls in-hand. The council followed him soon after. With haste, they left for the Hokage Tower. Hiruzen unsealed the scrolls from his students, and laid all three out for the council to view.  
  
Jiraiya and Orochimaru had each sent scrolls which indicated disasterous events. Kushina and Noburu had been kidnapped -- with Kushina being recovered, but their allied village’s jinchuuriki still missing. Kumo and unknown monks were responsible -- a bad enough situation on its own merits.  
  
But Jiraiya told him a story of a situation about to unfold. Jiraiya had taken his students into what he called the ‘Contested Lands’, to the sounth of River Country. He’d taken them there to train in the valleys and caves, and to see the abandoned city which was the site of Orochimaru’s mining operation. But he had seen ninja from Tani and Suna encroach deeper into the region, and he suspected they knew the general location of Konoha’s mineral mining. It would not be long before an attack was launched against the mining operation.  
  
The third scroll was from their ambassador to Kusagakure. It was encoded by a cipher that they had to piece together, around the damaged and bloodstained portion. It didn’t help that part of the cipher was the use of different colored inks in the message.  
  
The sun had gone down by the time they fully processed the message. ‘Kusagakure has fallen,’ the message said. ‘The moderate faction of the village’s leadership has been arrested on charges of treason against the daimyo. Iwagakure has sent troops to help keep the peace. Ambassadors going missing. I may be next. Consider Grass Country a puppet state.’  
  
Hiruzen sat back and examined the three messages, and then looked at the map of the continent on his wall. The three events had happened at the border region between three of the remaining four elemental nations -- all at roughly the same time.  
  
“Our enemies have been planning this for a while,” Hiruzen muttered. How he wished he hadn’t left his pipe at home. Curse the no-smoking rule of the theatre. “We have been outmaneuvered.”  
  
“This wouldn’t have happened,” Danzo muttered bitterly, “if you hadn’t been so aggressive in dismantling my branch of Anbu.” He picked up the scroll stained in blood. “The messenger for this one was attacked by Iwa ninja -- who were in position between Kusa and the Fire Country border. We could have warned them, if my spies had been allowed to remain at their posts.”  
  
Hiruzen didn’t let it show on his face how he knew Danzo was right. He didn’t give voice to Danzo’s legitimate criticism in the face a calamity. The dire future he had been warned about would _not_ come to pass.  
  
“We cannot let this slide,” Koharu said, strong and willfull. She tapped her finger into the scroll from Jiraiya. “We must reinforce the mining operation as a priority. We’ll lose face to the daimyo if we demand he keep the lands and his debts, but do not adequately protect it.”  
  
“But it’s clear what our enemy is attempting to do,” Homura replied. He stood and walked to the map on the wall. “Three events, from the major nations, all at the same time.” He tapped them in sequence, and then repeatedly on the orange-colored Soup Country. “They want us to split our forces, and leave our flanks exposed to the inheritors of Water. If we respond how they predict -- we will almost certainly lose the land which borders Tea and Soup.”  
  
“The situation with Kumo is mostly resolved at this point,” Danzo said with a tone that indicated how displeased he was. “We have our jinchuuriki back. Orochimaru and the rebel monk will retrieve Oto’s jinchuuriki on their own terms -- with Orochimaru’s infiltration expertise I expect them to have it done in a week at most. We can dedicate more resources elsewhere.”  
  
“Such as this mining operation.” Koharu emphatically tapped the relevant scroll. “Can you imagine the havoc which would result if Suna’s artisans got their hands on this mineral? Tanigakure knows those valleys better than our ninja do -- we _have_ to commit to its defense.”  
  
“And what does it say to our allies if we do not go to Kusagakure’s defense?” Homura asked. He gestured north, to Waterfall, and then south, to Tea. “These countries are directly at risk because of the enemy’s actions. Taki still hasn’t recovered their bijuu -- they will need assurance that we are ready to support them, which we won’t give by committing to the south.”  
  
Hiruzen listened to their points, and eyed the map. He sighed and rubbed his temple. “We will inform the daimyo about the possibility of war.” That was paramount -- it would take the daimyo time to mobilize his mundane soldiers and hire mercenary ninja. “The possibility of an attack from Nadeshiko cannot be ignored -- so we can’t have the majority of our forces outside Fire Country.” He watched the map in silence, while the council waited for him to issue marching orders. With a sigh, he decided it was time. “Owl.”  
  
One of his Anbu emerged from the shadows and knelt beside the Hokage. “I am here, Lord Hokage.”  
  
“I hereby order you to put together a team of no less than nine and no more than eighteen jounin, and as many chunin as you deem necessary, and go north.” He nodded to the map. “Reinforce Takigakure. Keep an eye on Kusa, and work with Taki’s leadership to locate and secure the seven-tails in a combat-ready host, and retake Kusagakure when you feel the time is right.” He sighed deeply. “I will assemble a similar force to yours, and deploy them to the south, under Jiraiya’s command until Orochimaru can take over.”  
  
Jiraiya would be a much better fit to place in the land adjacent to Tea and Soup, once freed up. And Orochimaru being at the dig site would accelerate their development of the mineral into something useful. The sooner that secret could guard itself, the better.  
  
“You cannot be serious,” Danzo said softly, like he was stunned to his very core.  
  
“Under the wartime doctrine, established by the Second Hokage,” Hiruzen spoke with greater volume, that he could drown out Danzo’s repeated statements as they rose in volume. “I authorize you to appropriate resources and funds to support this theatre of armed conflict. Your word will be as mine. And should I fall in battle, between now and war’s end, you will rise as the Fourth Hokage.” He looked at Owl, and saw Fugaku’s eyes look back at him with shock. “You have your orders. Go.”  
  
\--  
  
Rebellious Monk Kousuke  
  
Kousuke listened to Noburu’s rat summon relay what he’d heard and contemplated what to do about the situation while he outwardly didn’t react. He could feel Saiken’s unease as he listened through the monk’s ears.  
  
“Do you know which temple these monks belong to?” Orochimaru asked once the rat had finished his report, and scurried off. He couldn’t look directly at Kousuke -- Tsunade was between them, transferring chakra from the monk to the Sannin.  
  
“They’re not monks,” Kousuke responded. He could sense familiarity from Saiken and knew there was something afoot. “None of the monk temples teach the use of chakra strings -- every one which did was hunted down by Suna to eliminate competition. Why do you think there isn’t a Wind Temple anymore?”  
  
Kousuke reached out mentally to Saiken who hesitated before he linked to the monk’s body.  
  
Tsunade yanked her hand off Kousuke’s shoulder as human chakra mixed with the bubbly slug’s.  
  
“Oy,” Saiken said with Kousuke’s mouth and slumped against the wall. “This ain’t gonn’ be an easy explanation, yeah?”  
  
The Hyuga among Orochimaru’s students arched his brow and pointed at Kousuke. “Your whole body language changed real fast there.”  
  
Behind Saiken’s influence, Kousuke noted the boy with amusement. _Perceptive,_ he told the slug. _Perhaps he will fill in the blanks, and you won’t have to hold them by the hand through this._  
  
Saiken shrugged Kousuke’s shoulders. “That’s another thing, for a different time, yeah? Dese folk… they are not of this world.” Ever the dramatic, the slug let them ponder in silence for a moment before he clarified. “Long, long time ago, yeah? The Sage of Six Paths had himself a lil’ brother. Lil’ brother used chakra to make the moon a place he and his clan could leave in peace, yeah?” Saiken rubbed the back of Kousuke’s neck, suddenly bashful. “But… I got to thinkin’, maybe they’d want to visit yeah? They’d maybe need our help if somethin’ went wrong, yeah?”  
  
Kousuke mentally arched a brow as he noted the way the shinobi’s eyes all moved like they were deep in thought -- Orochimaru seemed to connect the dots fastest, as he leaned forward to glare at Kousuke with Saiken in control.  
  
“You’re saying that these people -- they are distant relatives of the Sage of Six Paths,” Shibi deduced. “And… that they used something you made to come down from the moon.”  
  
“Mmm,” Saiken said and nodded Kousuke’s head. “It’s how I know where they one hundred percent will be at some point or anudda. I remember where I put it.” Saiken turned and met Orochimaru’s gold eyes with the milky whites he made Kousuke’s appear as. “Iffin they catch him again -- that’s where they’ll go. And iffin they ask for help….”  
  
“That’s where their reinforcements will come from,” Orochimaru muttered. His glare intensified. “Where is it?”  
  
\--  
  
Chunin Uemon  
  
After an hour of waiting, Noburu had fought off the lingering willpower in the chakra tumor, and returned to control his body. With that, they began to plan out their counter.  
  
“Kunoichi, chunin from the color of her flak jacket,” Noburu said as he spied on them with his Byakugan. “Hidden thirty feet away outside the eastern treeline, has a repeating crossbow with bolts inscribed with a seal of some kind.”  
  
Ishidate made a note of the weapon, but frowned. “Um. What’s ‘feet’ in sensible units of measurement?”

  
Noburu twitched, his focus broken, and sighed. “A little over nine meters.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Noburu focused once more on their enemies. “Trap expert in the trees behind us -- multiple traps set up to the west of us. Shinobi, also a chunin. All the traps seem tied to manual triggers he controls -- knock him out, and they’re useless.”  
  
“Where behind us? Point him out.” Ishidate didn’t want to assume Noburu meant ‘behind me’ or ‘to the north’ when they had technically-allied ninja they had to escape. When Noburu did, he noted the threat’s position. “No traps around us?”  
  
“No. From his lip movements, I think he assumes we will make a break for it.”  
  
Ishidate looked up and arched his brow. “There’s someone close enough for him to talk to?”  
  
“I think they either have a short-range communication jutsu, or radios.” Noburu focused a moment more. “Definitely radios, I’m not seeing chakra in the air.”  
  
Ishidate narrowed his eyes. Radios were expensive -- had Kumo supplied them?  
  
“The other two are moving around a lot… one has a complex tube with them, it has a weighted net inside. The other one….” Noburu did a double-take and hissed through his teeth. “Shit, that’s Hidan.”  
  
Ishidate arched his brow and looked up at the ceiling. “Someone you know?”  
  
“Kinda-sorta.” Noburu focused intensely. “I’m… not seeing a Jashin amulet on him, so he’s not joined the faith yet….”  
  
Ishidate sharply drew in breath and grabbed a bell from his pouch. “You don’t speak the evil god’s name without warning, Nobu!” While Noburu muttered half-hearted apologies, Ishidate rang the bell and prayed internally.  
  
“Uses a sycthe on a rope. Guess he gets the second and third blades later on in life. I know how to fight him.” Noburu turned his Byakugan off and focused on Ishidate when his prayers ended. “How should we split this? I take Hidan and the sniper, you deal with the trap guy and the net-gun guy?”  
  
Ishidate nodded. “And until you get something with pockets, I’ll keep Akimitsu to help with poison delivery.” Ishidate’s wig rose up and he could feel the mouse wave at Noburu.  
  
Noburu nodded. He formed hand seals, and Ishidate woke the evil eye totem from its sleep.  
  
“Water release: Hidden Mist justu!” “Earth release: Trapdoor bunker!”  
  
Ishidate expanded the trapdoor bunker with the second use, too much for the stiff silk to support. He’d also adjusted the size of the opening, so that when he pushed up on the roof -- a section wide enough for both Oto nin to escape rose up. The bunker collapsed into a pit around them, and a cloud of mist filled the forest.  
  
Ishidate went after the trap expert first. With a kunai drawn in his left hand, he charged the trap expert’s position, and forced him to abandon the wires he’d set up. Ishidate pursued him until they locked kunai together.  
  
“Really shoulda paid attention to what hand I was using my kunai with,” Ishidate told him and grabbed ahold of the Yu ninja’s long-sleeved shirt with his right hand, and the evil eye totem flared to life. Moments later, the man’s shirt had completely turned to stone, with his hands too far apart to form hand signs. “Have fun with that!”  
  
He let the pissed man with his stoned shirt, and looked away just in time to see an bolt fly right for his face. It stopped in the air -- just as it would have struck his forehead protector, and was yanked away by an unseen force. A glance in the direction saw Noburu spin the bolt around and launched it where it had come from.  
  
A distant ‘puff’ sound drove Ishidate to form handsigns quickly, and he substituted himself with a log that was netted from afar. From his new place in the trees, Ishidate raced toward the source of the net, and saw a Yugakure ninja without a flak jacket ditch the metal tube from which the net had been launched.  
  
He felt legitimately insulted that genin had been involved in this affair, and had to remind himself that these folks were likely just on a border patrol and had stumbled on them. Noburu’s mist was carried by the wind and drifted into the trees through which Ishidate chased the genin. Visibility was poor, and the genin made a critical error that tipped things in Ishidate’s favor -- he missed the branch he jumped for on account of the mist.  
  
Ishidate heard the genin’s frightened yelp and launched down to grab him. His right hand grabbed the genin by the shirt, his left stabbed a kunai through the collar and into the tree to support him, and Akimitsu ran down Ishidate’s arm to nick the genin with a sewing needle.  
  
“I don’t often use hallucinogens,” the mouse commented as he scurried back up under Ishidate’s wig. “So I don’t know how long that will last.”  
  
“We don’t need very long to cross… cross….” Ishidate scratched the side of his face with his left hand and grabbed the Yu genin’s trousers with his right as he dropped to the ground. “How far is sixty feet again?” He held the pilfered tomato-red shorts in his hand and looked around for Noburu.  
  
He could faintly hear vicious cursing and saw Noburu return to the pit with a pair of black trousers over his shoulder. “Hmm,” Noburu muttered and gave him a flat look. “You asked me how far thirty feet was earlier. What’s twice that?” Noburu discarded the black trousers. “Too small. Hidan, you’re a skinny jerk and I don’t know how women can find you attractive.” He turned and shouted the last sentence over his shoulder.  
  
Even louder vicious cursing followed.  
  
Ishidate rested one hand on his hip and offered the tomato red shorts with the other. “Keep being sarcastic, and I won’t try to find you trousers next time. I think these will fit -- drawstring waist and all.”  
  
“Oh,” Noburu cooed and swiped the shorts. “In that case, sweetie, sixty feet is a little over eighteen meters. You’re so thoughtful. And you grabbed the kunai holster too!” Soon, Noburu was decent once again -- without need of clone trousers. Now equipped with pockets, Akimitsu promptly ditched Ishidate’s wig for Noburu’s new shorts.  
  
“I aim to please. Let’s get going before those monks and Kumo jackasses show up.” Ishidate led the way to the south-west, and toward the border with Mount Koryu. “So, do you know anything about Mount Koryu? The three-tails knew a bit.”  
  
“I know that it’s not kind to chakra use, and that there are different zones for the different dragons. But I don’t know which zone we’re running into.” Noburu narrowed his eyes as he looked ahead. “Probably the lightning one.”  
  
Ishidate arched his brow at Noburu. “I thought you said you couldn’t see past the stones with your Byakugan.”  
  
“Using the modern medical miracle called ‘eyes’ I can see that there’s a localized thunderstorm,” he pointed up and Ishidate saw the sky darkening. “And that it’s staying in place despite strong winds today.”  
  
“On the one hand, that’s fair,” Ishidate noted, “but on the other -- all your sarcasm makes me wonder if I should take those shorts back.” For a moment, it was just them, bantering and enjoying each other’s company. Maybe like the date they had missed.  
  
It was nice.  
  
\---  
You would be forgiven for not realizing the world is devolving into war, if you are in the forest where it is peaceful.  
  
In other news -- all y’all who watched the last Naruto movie notice how bubbly and artisinal the path from Earth to the moon is? Chair noticed.


End file.
